Beauty in the Blue
by SaffieSkies
Summary: AU. Adrien was sure the terrible injury was making him delusional. He could not imagine how she had survived this long with what she possessed. In this world, blue eyes are incredibly precious and rare. Worth more than any imaginable treasure. And Adrien seemed to have found them... in her lovely face.
1. Chapter 1

"Perhaps you ache for freedom  
For the blue that's in your eyes,  
Was given as a present  
From the fabric of the sky,  
And when you're gazing skywards  
It's no wonder that you yearn,  
When part of what you're made of  
Always wishes to return." – Erin Hanson

To call something priceless, is to imply that is has value beyond what mere money can afford.

In a world containing so many beautiful and wonderful things, Humanity had chosen to covet one thing above all else. Even above loyalty or honor.

Family or trust.

Friendship and love.

This was a deep-rooted, ugly black-eye born out of greed and the empty need to find purpose.

The desire and temptation had darkened a land of once humble hearts. The desperate longing to obtain anything closely related to this, had poisoned mankind for countless generations. Bringing out the absolute worst in people. It became so heavily anticipated, that it drove even the most honorable of individuals to the brink of insanity to obtain it.

The World was a sad and scary place. It still is.

Especially considering that seemingly unimaginable things, such as breathtaking magic or amazing miracles, are not so impossible to obtain or behold in this World. And yet, they were overlooked as dull in comparison.

In order to understand how something like this had come to be, you'd have to listen to the stories whispered amongst the shadows and alleys. Those are the true stories. Ignore the tales written in books or sung in happy, silly songs. For those are just fancy lies, spun to ease the guilt.

It all began quite simply. Actually, it's a very sad story. Truthfully painful because it paints Humanity in a very dark light. However, it is one hundred percent true.

Try to remember back to a time before the great Kingdoms of the World flourished and spread. Before modern advancements made the population grow and cultures to advance.

As children of the Earth, humankind was born with eyes that matched the surrounding landscape. Colors which matched the soil and trees. From the richest of greens to the deepest of browns. All equally beautiful on their own. And no one thought or felt any different towards one another. Because everyone held these earth-tone colored eyes. Times were simple and peaceful.

As time moved forward, people began to grow braver and travel further. Intermixing with one another from far across the land. No one knows when or why the first one was discovered. Only that, when it happened, mankind would never be the same again.

Blue. The purest of colors. And all its corresponding shades and pigments, colored so effortlessly in the eyes of a few. Yes, a simple genetic mutation had left only a small percentage of the world's population with a certain color of eyes.

A priceless color. Rarer than gold or diamond. Blue symbolized a people from the Sky and Heavens, so far above the Earth dwellers below. Seeing the otherworldly color reflected in someone's face sparked a wildfire of astonishment and deep-seeded panic. And thus, a legend was born.

Those who possessed blue eyes were once foretold as Gods or Goddesses who had chosen to be reborn amongst mankind. They were seen as symbols of good fortune and divine blessing. Gracing the human world with their presence and walking amongst the mortals. Their eye color being the only thing that gave away the secret to their heavenly past.

Or so, that's how it all originally started.

As time went on, the rarity of these individuals was so drastic that many did not survive past childhood. As hard as it is to imagine, parents often killed blue-eyed babies in their infancy – in order to protect them from a life that would certainly be nothing but pain and torment should their eyes be discovered. It was a terribly painful sacrifice for any parent to make.

For was not uncommon for those of high wealth and power to steal blue-eyed babies – ripping them from their mother's protecting arms – and claim them as their own. Possessing a baby with blue eyes, even if the child was not your own, was the highest honor and status symbol. It showed that the Gods deemed you worthy of being in their presence.

Although, truthfully, kidnapping was perhaps the least horrific act that could be done.

As dark as it may seem, murders occurred all in the name of jealousy and envy…

"How dare a blue-eyed baby be more valuable and more highly renown than a member of royalty or clergy?"

"How dare someone, born from nothing, be so held in such high regard?"

"How dare the Gods choose to be reborn into someone else and not me?"

"Why not my child… why not me?"

Oh, the thoughts that would cloud one's mind. Pitiful and grotesque.

Trophy hunters scoured the lands, constantly searching for the smallest hint of blue. Reward signs hung in every town square – the ludicrous amounts of reward money invoking a sense of disbelief and fantasy.

People tried to breed the color into their family tree – efforts that proved worthless. As if by a defiant act of the Gods themselves, the color would not take to the eyes of the offspring. Bastard children of Royalty were cast aside, making true Royal blood a thing of the past.

As the Kingdoms of the world grew, all the wealth and power centered in a very small percentage of the world's population.

Only Royalty and nobility believed that they should be allowed to possess such a people. In truth, aristocracies were the only individuals who could afford the necessary protection to keep them from being stolen. For they were no longer people – just objects to be possessed and owned. Kings and royalty horded blue-eyed people like their own secret treasure trove. Both blue-eyed men and women became sexually coveted beings. Whored out, trafficked and sold like rare jewels in underground auctions.

As you can imagine, humanity became obsessed with the idea of possessing any form of blue in their eyes. The clearer and brighter the blue – the more they were valued. The obsession became too great. Blue colored cloth and clothing was always in high fashion. People who could afford the finer things in life, turned to make up and cosmetics to bring out even the slightest potential of blue. The Extremists choosing to inject colored dyes into their eyes. Inflicting blindness on themselves. Although, these "Falsies" – as they were known – were often scoffed at or ignored amongst the aristocratic circle. A true blue eye was clear and pure.

Blue-eyed individuals became scarcer as time went on. Becoming like an endangered species, nearing its inevitable extinction. Spurring on a constant and never-ending mania. Soon, the thought of ever seeing one alive was laughable. Normal people had better things to worry about – like surviving and feeding their families.

The last known and documented blue-eyed individual was several decades ago. That child was met with the cruelest of fates. He was about to turn nine years old when he was discovered. He was carried away by a lustful mob, tearing chunks of his flesh from his body and pulling the hair from his head. Literally torn limb from limb by fanatics desiring to touch his skin and possess him. Some whispers say, that is what caused the War to break out in the first place. No one could agree who would own him. In their petty squabbles, they let to his gruesome death. But now, years had passed, and War continued to be fought over blame and arrogance.

With the aristocracy of the world enveloped in what was being called: the Copy King's War, it allowed for the perfect distraction for a girl to be born in secret. Since the moment she opened her precious eyes for the first time, her parents felt an incredible weight fall on their shoulders. They stared at one another, weighing out their options. Already too in love with their precious first-born daughter, they could not bring themselves to harm her. It broke their hearts to hear her little gurgling laugh and the way she smiled so easily up at them. She was so small and innocent to the world. It was in that moment, surrounded by other members of their small village, that they made the unanimous decision to keep her.

They hid her away from the outside world. And yet, that decision haunted them every single day. Constantly looking over their shoulders for danger. Keeping her concealed from visiting strangers – even though strangers were extremely uncommon for the area. The nearby village was very tiny, close-knit and contained mostly family or close friends. People they could trust. They rallied around the family, and raised the little baby together in secret. These people grew to know the sweet girl. They watched her grow up. The pull of her blue eyes did not cloud their hearts and minds – mostly because they all felt responsible for her, and loved her for the person she was. And the young woman she grew to be.

She lived out her childhood peacefully, and surrounded by joy and happiness with her devoted parents. They lived in a small but comfortable and secluded house at the edge of a vast & dense forest. The village was a long hour away, even on horseback.

As the years ticked away, The Copy King's War distracted those who would want to do her harm. The War was always far away. Fought on some distant land and so far very far away from their small corner of the world. The family breathed a little bit easier with each passing day.

Although, they were still constantly plagued with worry that, one-day, someone would find their beloved daughter and steal her away from them. It woke her Father up constantly in the dead of night and made her mother cry sometimes for no reason at all. She was all they had, the center of their family universe.

Perhaps their greatest mistake was that they never told her what she possessed. It was a decision they constantly argued about. However, in the end, they just wanted her to be happy. If she was living in constant fear, how could she be happy? It was dangerous enough to keep her hidden and still allow her to be somewhat free. So, she knew nothing of her eyes or how they would change the course of her life.

Now a young adult woman, she had been remarkably spared any tragedy or trauma. It made her into a kind, strong willed and independent person. However, tragically naïve. Her life might have been normal and without consequence had Fate not brought a young, gravely insured soldier unexpectedly into her care.

Every story has to start somewhere. Now that you know how it all began, we can officially begin.

The enemy moved in the dead of night like Death itself. Using the cover of low-lying mist to conceal their position as they snuck in the night to ambush the unsuspecting Faction sanatorium. The Faction's War Council was using the small encampment to meet in secret and discuss strategy. The location had been provided to only a select few individuals, and far from enemy lines. It was also deeply immoral to attack a medical camp. So the War Council had felt safe in their bickering late night discussions, and everyone's guard was down.

As a wall of arrows sliced through the large makeshift fabric tents, the council broke apart and frantically ran in all directions. Soldiers frantically began to get organized to try and put up some kind of a defensive against the unsought of enemies - while muttering sharp curses under their breaths. Because, it was painfully clear that they had a traitor amongst them. A sinful act had given away the meeting location. It was an attempt to stuff out the leadership. A truly ruthless and cunning strategy. But that was typical tactic of the Copy King's War. They should have known better.

Despite the great gathering of leadership, there was no organization now as the camp descended into chaos. These were Military strategists who had armies of loyal men at their command. Individuals who were to be protected, and not see the direct line of battle.

The battle turned in the enemy's favor in a very short amount of time. People were running and screaming in fear. Everyone was drawing weapons and in the fight for their lives. Lords, Dukes and nobility now became the same as their enlisted soldiers. Formalities were gone, as all men were suddenly caught up in the surprise battle. It was every last man for himself.

Those leaders, who did not possess a single moral bone in their bodies, began running away from the fight. Not even attempting to defend their fellow man or comrades, they stole horses and fled to save their own skin. Their faces yellow in fear as they disappeared into the mist – never expecting to actually have to fight.

Those who stayed to fight it out, were met with a wall of well-armed enemies. The fear in their hearts was a thick as the mist that clung to the air.

Among those not afraid to stay back and fight, was the young son of a reputable Duke. Through a very extensive family tree, the young man may have rights to the throne one day. But, for now, he was still living in the shadow of his Father's status. His pedigree had spared him no expense with proper armor and weapons. And he had military and combat training throughout his youth.

It had been an honorable thing for him to fight in the Copy King's war under his Father's house and title. It earned him the right to sit in the same room as the war council. However, due to his age, he could not sit upon the council itself. Perhaps one day. But for now, he was there to observe and learn from the elders. He had a small squad of his own loyal men - mostly there to protect their young master.

His blonde hair was hidden and matted with sweat under a soldier's helmet as he and his fellow comrades fought alongside one another. Many, including him, were too stubborn to retreat just yet. They were young and full of recklessness. The call to fight was like a pounding song in their veins. They could buy the other War Council leaders time to escape. At least those who hadn't already fled.

As more enemies poured from the dark trees, they quickly became outnumbered. Shouts rang out to retreat. The small group paced the ground on nervous feet. Afraid to retreat and be overrun. Adrien pulled his blade out of the chest cavity of a dead enemy. Another man collided with his wide shield and bounced off the slick metal. Thrusting his sword, he caught the man between the ribs dragged the blade until it swiped clean through.

His comrade stepped in to cover his back. The young man towered above Adrien even though they were similar in age. With his friend covering him, it allowed Adrien a chance to look up. A brief moment of calm before another wave would certainly hit them. Adrien wasn't going to let them get taken by surprise again. Even as another voice shouted again to retreat, he disobeyed the order and pressed forward.

Adrenaline pumping through his limbs, he fought his way forward. He heard his name being called, but chose to ignore it. He would uphold his duty and fight against the False Prince and restore a true King to the land. He would make his Father proud of him, for once in his life. In his young frame of mind, that was the only thing that mattered to him.

He was separated from his own men in an attempt to catch the enemies by surprise and push them back, even as they began to rain down like hail upon him. Looking around, he tried to find a familiar face in the madness, but could only see faces of men either dead or dying.

Horses screamed, metal scraped against metal, as grown men cried out in anguish and death. Fires ripped through the fabric tents and flames climbed high into the night sky. Their smoke, mixing with the existing mist, lay in a thick haze along the battlefield. Figures seemed to emerge from the now inky shadows.

Enemies appeared through the veil and rushed towards him in a wild rage. Suddenly fighting three enemies at once, no amount of training could have prepared him for this. He parried one blade, using his shield keep his head from being sliced clean off. He countered, pushing that man to the ground. The action wretched the shield from his arm, and made him stumble. A stupid move on his part. And yet, free of the weight of his shield, he felt more mobile. Smoke stung his eyes and tasted heavy on his tongue through his gasping breaths. Without a second to rest, his remaining enemies roared and struck wildly at him. Quick on his feet, he knocked another man down and recklessly drove his sword into his armored shoulder, pinning him to the soft ground. A yell made him abandon his sword and twist around. Faster than he knew he could move, he caught the wrist of an attacking enemy. The man's shocked eyes were as big as dinner plates as Adrien knocked the sword from his hand. The blade landed with a heavy 'thunk' in the dirt at both their feet. Adrien balled up a fist and struck the man under the chin before he had a second to react. The man lacked a proper helmet and Adrien's armored gauntlet felt like a wreaking ball to his chin.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw someone rushing up to his right. His armored chest bared the crest of an opposing house. A family who had remained neutral throughout this bloody War. Well, clearly, that wasn't the case anymore. Adrien dodged the man's sword and knocked him to the ground before stomping on his chest plate – knocking the wind out of him.

A moment of hubris swelled within his chest and blinded him to the other enemies that appeared from the grey air. He heard their footsteps like thunder. Empty handed, he could only stand and watch as they ran towards him. Surely to skewer him where he stood.

His men were suddenly at his side. Shielding him and defending him against his own death.

"Run, Sire!" Kim yelled as his sword and shield met with that of another.

Adrien scooped up a forgotten sword from the ground. It was coated in blood and the hilt was slippery in his hand.

"No! I'm not leaving you to die!" Adrien yelled to his friend, before jamming his blade past Kim's body into the enemy's awaiting stomach. The sword slipped from his hand and stayed stuck in the man's gut as he fell to his knees, dark blood pooling from his lips.

The two young men had a moment to stare at one another. They could read the silent but emotional expressions streaked across each other's faces.

Shouts rang out and pulled their focus away from one another. A group of six men, each carrying bows, appeared through the smoke. Arrows fitted into their bow strings, ready to be sent flying. Upon seeing Adrien and Kim standing there, the front three dropped to their knees and drew back their bows. The three standing echoed them instantly.

Kim and Adrien had seconds to huddle behind Kim's shield before the arrows rained down upon them. Their sharpened metal tips clanking and even piercing through the thin metal shield. They were pinned down and completely defenseless. Arrows hissed by Adrien's head and buried themselves in the dirt at his feet. He heard Kim gasp in pain and drop to one knee. The shield protecting them starting to shake as Kim was losing his grip.

Adrien slipped his arm through the shield and helped Kim hold it steady. In doing so, he noticed an arrow sticking out of Kim's upper thigh, the tip buried deep into his flesh. His leg hung slightly limp as the muscle ceased up around the wound.

Adrien racked his mind for how to get out of this one. Another arrow hissed past his ear, tinking slightly as the fins struck his helmet.

More shouts rang out from behind them. He braved a look over his shoulder and saw his men huddled behind their shields similar to he and Kim, as they tried to take cover against the arrows. The site gave Adrien an idea. Shouting over the noise, an order was sounded out. Followed by obeying footsteps pounding forward and up beside him. A shield appeared in front of them, followed by another, and then one more. Slowly, they were encased in a protective barrier of metal shields.

Arrows continued to strike the wall of shields, but none were able to get inside. One of the oldest defensive techniques in the book. Adrien made eye contact with his men and nodded in silent approval.

Despite their teamwork, they were nervous. Their faces were practically white in fear. Especially when, through the cracks of the shields, they could see other enemy soldiers moving towards the shielded group.

"Steady." He told them quietly, in order to keep their spirits from breaking. "Steady, men." Their shields were wobbly with gathering fatigue and nerves. They stayed huddled together, waiting it out. The enemy archer's ammunition would not last forever. But the other swordsmen would be on them in a matter of seconds.

As quickly as they began, the arrows stopped. They had run them dry. Adrien glanced at Kim and the two of them spoke without words to one another.

Adrien glanced through the wall of shields and saw the archers backing away. Sneering at the prime opportunity, he shouted an order and the protective shields fell away. In a rush, the group drew their weapons and charged.

The sudden attack caught the enemy by mistake. They broke rank and scattered.

Adrien moved with his men, pulling a stray sword out of a nearby corpse to lead the attack. The rush of battle was on again. The archer wall quickly fell away and men abandoned their bows to draw small weapons to defend themselves. Joined by other enemy swordsmen, it became an all out brawl once again.

Adrien hacked his way through enemies, not necessarily striking killing blows but keeping them back. He watched his men take injuries but still kept fighting by his side. His heart swelled with pride for his men. He shouted words to encourage them when he could. They were all were fighting bravely.

And yet, enemies still poured onto them. Their stamina was wearing down. Adrien grit his teeth and pushed his body past the point of fatigue. His movements were soon sloppy and lacked any real tact.

The man to his right was knocked prone and his body slammed into Adrien's. He stumbled backward, teetering with the weight of his armor and his unstable legs, before landing solidly in the dirt. The action knocked the wind out of him and his body was fighting the desire to stand back up. He looked forward and barely had time to blink before an enemy was upon him. The man's sickle struck wildly the ground at Adrien's side, forcing him to roll away. The man heaved attack after attack, and Adrien kept rolling from side to side to avoid them. A few times, the sharp point of the blade managed to tink against his chainmail. Finally winded the man paused, and Adrien kicked at his knees.

The man teetered but did not fall, although the hit did earn Adrien a foul curse and grunt. Adrien knew he had to get to his feet if he was to survive another onslaught of attacks. He made it to one knee before the man struck at him again. Adrien parried the blade with his sword. Sparks flew as the metals scraped against each other. Adrien's sword was considerable longer than the small sickle, so the sharp tip caught the man in the cheek and sliced it clean open to his lip.

The attacker gurgled a scream in pain and grabbed for his face. It bought Adrien a moment to get up on his other knee before another enemy appeared wielding a short sword and dagger combo. Adrien had seconds to dodge the sword, but the dagger bit into his arm just above his gauntlets and dragged an angry cut through his shirt. He hissed in pain and dared a quick glance at the wound, already staining his undershirt with fresh blood.

The wound made his stomach tighten. Gritting his teeth he swung his sword in a wide arch, catching the man in the stomach and gutting him instantly. The blood and other hot juices sprayed Adrien in the face, causing him to turn away and close his eyes. The smell of bile filled his nostrils, as he knew he had severed internal organs. The man abandoned his sword in a desperate attempt to hold himself together, quite literally.

Despite the horrific and certainly deadly injury, the man did not stop. Fueled with the last moments of life, he sliced at Adrien with the dagger. Adrien dodged the attack by leaning backward on his knees, however the blade whisked past his face, missing it by centimeters. The man immediately turned his wrist and used the momentum to bring the weapon back around. This time the blunt hilt of the dagger caught Adrien in the side of the head. The blow thundered inside his metal helmet and echoed in his ears. Adrien caught himself on one arm as he was knocked to the side.

Still dazed by the blow, he missed seeing the first assailant gather himself up and collect his weapon. Adrien looked up with enough time to see the disemboweled man standing above him. How was he still able to move? The man kicked him weakly, but Adrien's young body took the blow easily. He watched the man draw back his arm as if to punch him. He no longer had a weapon and his hand was unable to make a fist. Adrien put up his arm and his gauntlet blocked the blow that was nothing more than a dull thunk. Looking over his own arm, Adrien watched the man's eyes glaze over in death.

The site preoccupied him longer than it should have. Even after the dead man's body slumped and fell away, Adrien was still taken aback by the site. It burrowed its way into his subconscious. He was sure he would be seeing that man's dead eyes in his dreams from now on.

The next thing he knew, he was in pain. Turning his head slowly, he met a pair of very alive brown eyes. The man sneered as best he could with his cut up mouth hanging open in flapping pieces, having plunged his sickle into Adrien's side. Cutting through his armor and carving into his flesh. As quickly as the blade entered, the man thrust it away. The pain was immediate and dropped him to the ground. Adrien gripped his side, feeling his own hot blood pouring onto his hand. Somehow, that gave him motivation to struggle to his knees. His body felt heavy with the movement.

"Stay down, boy!" the man cursed, kicking him rightly in the ribs and knocking him back down.

Adrian grunted in pain, his body unable to bear the injury and protect himself from the sharp kick.

Disobeying the words of his enemy, Adrien tried again to get to his feet. The movement made his injured side protest greatly, but he couldn't think about that right now. Or the amount of blood pooling at his feet on the dry grass. It's wetness glistening slightly in the moonlight.

For whatever the reason, his attacker let Adrien get up awkwardly on his feet. Perhaps he was impressed by the young lad's stamina. Or he wanted to look him in the eye as he killed him.

Adrien took a weak step, holding one hand against his injured side and pathetically raised his sword barely a foot of the ground to defend himself.

Through blurry eyes, he watched the man laugh at him. Although, the laugh was quickly cut short by an arrow lodging itself deep into the man's chest. Adrien's eyes went wide at the site. For only a few seconds later, a second arrow hit about an inch away from the first. The man collapsed wordlessly to the ground.

Adrien stared at the body on the ground in disbelief. Slowly, he turned around and saw a single rider standing a few yards behind him, almost nearly shadowed by the smoke and mist. The man rode towards him. Once his face came into view, Adrien recognized the man instantly as one of his own. The older man dismounted and thrust the reins in Adrien's hand. He all but hauled Adrien up into the saddle like he weighed nothing.

Adrien realized what he was trying to do and immediate tried to protest. "Get off me!" Adrien yelled, trying to slide from the saddle. "I can still fight."

The horse paced nervously, smelling blood all around. The man narrowed his dark eyes, pushing the young Duke back into the saddle and knotting the reins around his wrist. "You're no good to your family dead." He remarked coldly.

"You'll die!" Adrien cried to him. He'd known the man his entire life.

"Such is my duty. Remember yours."

And with that remark, he smacked the nervous horse's rump and Adrien had no choice but to be taken away from the fight. He looked over his shoulder to watch his friend suddenly fighting against another rush of enemies.

The battle moved away from him. He could barely make out the tall figure of his comrade as he pushed his way through the enemy soldiers. God, if he survived this, if any of them survived this, it would be a miracle.

He heart felt heavy. His rational mind trying to convince himself that this was one of the hardships of battle. Soldiers died. Leaders lived on. He remembered that from his years of training. However, it still didn't feel right. They weren't just his comrades in battle, they were his friends. He hated them to die for him.

As the spirited horse distanced him from the battle, he could only pray that his friends' professional training would protect them.

The adrenaline was still fresh in his veins so he still did not feel much pain. He knew that he needed to get away from the battle and regroup with the survivors. Although, from the noises still going on behind him, there may not be very many survivors.

The thought made Adrien's face twist in disgust. This was a hard loss and there would be severe casualties on their side. While it had been completely un-honorable to attack a group of high-ranking officials off the main battlefield, and in a camp solely containing medial aid. Although, he couldn't deny that it had been extremely tactful. A spy or double agent must have given up their meeting location.

Adrien silently wondered to himself how many men would be taken for ransom. Most of the nobility would be worth their weight in gold to be returned alive to their families. Although, as many men as he saw fall in battle, he wondered if the enemy even cared to keep them alive for the money.

His frustrations about the situation only made him think back on his comrades who had fought beside him. Many of them were his dear friends. They had trained together since they were children. Others who had accompanied him weren't even soldiers. It would be a miracle if they survived the encounter.

If war had taught him anything, it was to survive. The bleeding injury in his side was a solid reminder that he would need medical care quickly if he stood a chance at seeing another battle again. Although seeing as the attacked camp had been the Faction's only closest medical facility, he would not be seeing another friendly camp for some time.

Turning the horse away, he pushed deeper into the forest and away from the sounds of battle.

He rode for hours. Not really caring what direction he was going. After a while, he let the horse just go where it wanted. His vision was having trouble focusing. The adrenaline in his muscles had long since subsided and he was left numb and his senses were dull.

His mind was having trouble focusing on anything except the burning pain in his side and the gut wrenching nausea. His hand was pressed against the wound. But his heavy armor was caked in dry blood. He could only imagine how much he had actually lost. He didn't want to think about it. He had to focus on surviving.

Add on another half dozen smaller injuries he was suddenly feeling, and it was amazing he was hanging on this long. His eyelids felt impossibly heavy. On several occasions, he had to shake himself awake or jab his fingers into a wound to shock himself conscious. Especially since the more he recounted the symptoms he was having, the more he felt like he probably had a concussion. Loosing consciousness meant death.

The further he rode, the more his mind wandered. He thought about a lot of things. It's amazing what your mind chooses to remember as you limp along in life. Faces of friends and family flashed through his troubled psyche. He even thought briefly about his Father, who was hundreds of miles away - safely tucked away in their family's private estate. He wondered if he would ever get to see him again. Not that he saw him much anyway. The man had always been a shut-in. Adrien's childhood had been filled with servants, nursemaids and attendants who looked after him and raised him until he was old enough to look after himself. So, when the opportunity to join the opposition to the Copy King's Army presented itself, Adrien had been almost happy to go and fight for the opposition. An honorable path for the young son of an introverted Duke. However, he had been away fighting the Copy King's War for what felt like an eternity. His family's estate was like a distant memory that barely pulled at his heartstrings.

The light of morning dawn began to illuminate the sky. Birds were singing their morning songs and the world was slowly waking up. It was peaceful now, almost relaxing as they moved through the trees. Perhaps it was the major blood loss, but he was starting to feel serene. His mind was completely blank. His body moved steadily along with the movement of the horse. Both of them were tired, sore and listless.

The morning gave way to a hot day. Despite the thick trees overhead, the air was heavy with humidity. The moisture in the air kept his blood wet and the scent fresh. It wouldn't be long until the smell started to attract unwanted predators. Still he pushed onward, hunched over in the saddle and letting his upper body rest against the horse's mane. One hand limply wrapped around its neck and tied up in the reins. The other still knotted against the wound in his side. He dozed a bit but then caught himself on several occasions falling deeper asleep, and jolted himself awake. Time moved quickly and slowly at the same time. It all was a blur to his senses.

The trees of the forest were massive. Their thick trucks were wider than four horses standing noise to tail. Even if Adrien strained his head upward, he couldn't see their tops. The trees dominated the forest, letting very little light reach the ground. Whatever light did reach, cascaded in the form of radiant beams that seemed to stretch down from the Heavens. Small ferns grew here and there, but not much else. It made for easy traveling for his horse, but Adrien had little to no idea what direction they were heading.

Day soon slipped into evening. As the sun disappeared, the forest seemed to come alive with sounds. Fear of what the night would bring made the adrenaline pump again in his veins and dulled the pain. Injured as he was, he could do little to defend himself should something or someone attack them. The forest echoed haunting noises from every angle. Even the horse stepped cautiously, its nostrils flaring constantly. Adrien felt like a million pairs of eyes were watching him. It terrified him in ways he couldn't fully understand. Maybe because he felt so small beneath the vastness of the forest and the darkness of its buzzing shadows. It had its own pulse. It's own heartbeat. And he, was just a visitor.

As the darkness gave way to morning once again, Adrien felt exhaustion rip through his body. His horse was starting to stop randomly, it's own exhaustion matching Adrien's. He tried to encourage the beast to continue to move but even he couldn't argue with the fact that if they continued like this, both of them wouldn't survive another night in the forest. They had to make some kind of progress in the day, or find a place to rest.

The sun burned the back of his neck and he knew that another full day of sweating without any water would send his body into dehydration. If it wasn't at that point already. He barely heard the birds singing anymore. Nor the sound of the horse's heavy footsteps. His eyes drifted closed.

Adrien hadn't realized he'd fallen from the saddle until he hit the hard ground and the air was knocked from his lungs. The impact made him bite down on his own tongue and he tasted blood in his mouth.

His hands were still tied up in the horse's reins, forcing him to get stupidly dragged along the ground for a few feet until he managed to get the leather reins unknotted from around his wrist. The horse, finally free of the extra weight, quickly left him behind and trotted away – it's loyalties turning to its own survival.

Adrien groaned and rolled over onto his back to stare up into the thick treetops. His entire body ached and was covered in blood, dirt and sweat. He hated to move. The pain was too great. The longer he lay there, the more sleep pulled at his consciousness.

No. No sleep. He could not let himself fall asleep.

He rolled once again, hauling himself onto his knees. His side burned like a fire was lit under his skin. Every way he moved, his flesh felt like it was being stretched and ripped from his bones. He was lucky enough to get away as far as he did. But, it wasn't enough. Sooner or later, someone would come looking for him. Either that or wild animals would follow the blood smell and soon find him gravely injured and unable to properly defend himself. He had been spared the previous night, probably from the presence of the horse. Without its company, he was very much alone. He couldn't just lie here and do nothing.

Summoning the last of his strength, he dragged himself onto his feet and started trudging through the trees of the forest. His mind solely focused on putting on foot in front of the other.

He stopped every few feet to lean against a nearby tree for support. His vision was blurring around the edges, but he forced himself onward. He might be walking in circles. He honestly couldn't tell anymore. He was bleeding again. He could feel the blood soaking through his under clothing.

He was delirious in pain, blood loss, and the beginnings of fever. He knees couldn't support his weight anymore. Every heavy footstep was draining the life out of him. He thought he had imagined breaking through the tree line before his vision failed him and his world went completely black.

Marinette had been out digging for wild onions when she saw the young man appear from behind a tree. He scared her nearly half to death before he collapsed and practically slid down the small incline to land at her feet in a bloody heap of chainmail.

A/N: A/N: This story idea hit me completely unexpectedly. I was feverishly awake until 4AM making notes on how I wanted it to progress and develop. I'm still working on it in stages, but I'm very excited to have finished the first chapter! I hope you all like it. Please mind the rating for later chapters. And please forgive any character alterations I had to make in order to keep with the plot. Thanks for reading! I'm excited to see where this one goes.


	2. Chapter 2

She let out a bit of an unappealing girly scream and crab crawled backward to get away from the stranger who ended up sliding down right beside her. His sudden appearance had definitely scared years off her young life. She sat in the moist dirt with her breaths heaving in her chest as she tried to understand what just happened. He was lying so still, she thought for certain he was playing a prank on her. As the long seconds ticked by, she started to realize that this wasn't a silly prank.

When he showed no signs of movement, she started to calm down a bit. Her heart was still pounding in her chest, but the initial fear quickly turned into growing concern and curiosity.

However, he made no move to get up or even lift his head. In fact, his body seemed almost lifeless as it lay on the ground before her.

In a brave move, she poked at his body with her toe. Ready to scramble away once again, should he stir. However, her poking proved nothing. The soldier was not responding, no matter how many times she kicked at him. Which was definitely more than once.

Marinette shifted onto her knees and crawled cautiously closer to him. The young man's body still showing no sign of movement.

Her voice was gaining nervousness with every word she spoke. Either he was a very good actor or something was very wrong.

"Sir, erm… Hello?" she called to him, daring to move even closer.

Kneeling beside him now, her shaking fingers reached out slowly towards his neck.

"Don't wake up… don't wake up… and scare me please sir." She mumbled to herself, letting the words roll quickly off her lips in some kind of a silly plea the closer she got to actually touching him.

Her shaking fingers searched under his metal armor to find his pulse. It took her a moment to find it, probably because she hadn't really done this before, and her fingers kept going to the wrong place so she was wildly searching all over his neck in a panicked frenzy. To her relief, she finally found a pulse in his neck. It beat steady and constant against her fingertips.

Letting out a breath she hadn't realized that she had been holding, she sat back.

"Not dead." She muttered to herself. He wasn't dead. Thank the Gods.

She really hadn't wanted to dig a man-sized hole and bury a body. The idea of having some unknown dead guy buried in her backyard unnerved her somewhat. Would he haunt her? Were ghosts even real? Never mind the fact that she knew absolutely nothing about him. He probably had a family, or at least people who cared about him being suddenly dead. Being a soldier, his commanding officers would want to know if he had died, for sure. She would be doing all of them a great injustice by burying him without their permission. Soldiers probably had very specific burial rights. She couldn't even host proper funeral for the man. Perhaps some pretty wildflowers but then, just a shallow grave in the soft dirt. Maybe with a rock to mark were he was buried. She probably should carve today's date in it. But she REALLY didn't want to have some random dead guy buried in her backyard.

Marinette physically shook herself, and smacked herself lightly on both cheeks in order to clear her own head. No need to jump to conclusions. He wasn't actually dead. Just somewhat unconscious.

She surveyed his body with inquisitive eyes. Okay, very unconscious.

His clothes and armor were caked in dirt and blood. He smelled like he had been out in the sun for days. Taking in a breath, she began to look him over more intently. A gigantic hole in his armor showed a gaping, bleeding wound in his side that was leaking dark blood through his under shirt. The wound looked horrific. Mangled flesh mixed with blood, sweat, mud and who knows what else. She swallowed on a suddenly dry mouth. Well, he wasn't dead, but who knows for how much longer. She might have to dig that hole.

Her chest tightened as she realized the situation before her. This stranger had, quite literally, fallen into her care. If she couldn't help him, he would most certainly die.

Sitting back on her legs, she let the situation fully soak in. She should go into the village and get her parents. They would know what to do. But the village was over an hour's walk, maybe less if she ran. The man may not have an hour. She recalled fleeting stories her Papa told her of the War, and the ruthless men that fought in it. He always talked about a War that seemed so far away. In no way could it ever affect their lives.

And yet, here he was. A soldier freshly plucked from the battlefield. Which meant that the Copy King's War was closer now than ever before. Marinette wondered if she would see more like him. Perhaps in the village? Certainly not out here. Her eyes scanned the trees, as if looking for more soldiers to suddenly appear from behind the massive trees. Perhaps he was a deserter? That means, he could be a horrible person. He could very well be her enemy. If he lived, he could mean her harm.

Her eyes glanced at the amount of blood he was losing. Her heart felt cold in her chest. Could she just let him die? He certainly wouldn't survive much longer. If at all. She might not even be able to help him. She wasn't a healer. She only knew enough natural remedies to get by. He would probably need a team of people to keep him alive.

She started to feel disheartened. Gripping her hands into fists she let her eyes scan over his body and to the wound peaking out from underneath the armor.

She had heard stories of the War that was greatly affecting the nearby cities and taking the lives of so many young men. Some had nicknamed it as the Endless War. It certainly wasn't a war of Kings. To call it that just sounded wrong. That being said, she never thought she would see a soldier find his way to her all the way out here in the old forest.

Shifting her gaze away from the horrendous wound, she leaned forward more. Letting her eyes search for his face, only to find it hidden under the soldier's helmet. Gripping the edges of the helmet, she pulled it off of his head. It was heavier than it looked as she set it to the side.

His face was sunburned and sections of his face and neck were rubbed raw from where the helmet had clung to his skin. His blonde hair was dirty and matted against his head. Calmly, she moved it gently out of his eyes to see him more clearly.

He was handsome in the way that most young men were handsome. Manhood may soon chisel those soft facial features away. But, for now, he held that in-between, almost boyish looking appearance that melted most young girl's hearts.

Despite his handsome features, his face did not seem cruel. If his eyes were open, she could have seen the gentleness held within them. But in this moment, she could only make a quick judgment of his character.

It was in that moment that she made up her mind.

Marinette put the edge of her skirt in her mouth and, using her teeth and hands, ripped a large piece of fabric from the garment. There were so many horrible things in this world. War had ravaged the land for years. The pity of it all filled her heart. It took a special person to see the miracle. This young man may very well have been fighting on the right side of things.

Even if he didn't survive the day, she had to at least try to save him.

She shoved the cloth against the wound and pressed it tightly against the side of his body. Almost instantly it began to fill with blood. She braced herself and held onto his shoulder as she applied pressure to stop the bleeding.

The soldier groaned as the immediate pain woke him with a start. His hand reached for his injury and tried to make the pain she was inflicting stop. He was weak and lacked a lot of strength to stop her. He attempted to pull her hand away, but she kept her grip firm.

"Shh, hush now. I know it hurts. Shh…" Marinette spoke to him gently, even as she pushed his hand away and forced him back down.

Adrien heard a voice, but the pain robbed his mind from thinking about anything else. His vision was spotty and his body felt impossibly heavy as he tried to pull away. He managed to writhe and wiggle away awkwardly.

However, Marinette didn't give up so easily. She kept a steady pressure on the wound and, despite his physical protests, she didn't let go. The wound needed constant pressure to stop the bleeding. If she couldn't stop the bleeding, this would be over very quickly.

"Shh… Shh… please try to relax." She coaxed him, keeping her voice as level as possible despite her gathering irritation at his attempts to move away. She really shouldn't be getting angry with him. But the more he protested her help, the more she grit her teeth and jaw in annoyance.

When his armor plated forearm collided with the side of her face, she faintly gasped at the pain. But he was too weak to do any real damage. The metal against her bare skin still hurt. She smacked his arm away and pinned it under her knee.

They were practically wrestling with one another. She tried to ignore the fact that he was touching her rather inappropriately. His other free hand pushing against her chest to get her off of him. She couldn't help but get angry the more he fought her help. She had to remind herself that he was delirious with pain, and wasn't acting rationally. Or, perhaps, this was how soldiers are?

Clenching her teeth, she put her other knee on his stomach and the action put her full weight on top of him. "I'm trying to help you!" she hissed angrily at him.

His only answer was a deep groan of pain. His eyes kept flickering open, but mostly they stayed closed. He didn't have the strength to fight her off. He could only grip fistfuls of her clothes and push weakly.

"Oh, would you just stop!" she groaned, trying to smack his hands away before he ripped her clothes anymore.

The sun was hot on the back of her neck as she continued to hold the cloth tightly compacted against his wound. She had been fighting with him for quite some time before finally his body went numb and his arms fell limp again. She couldn't deny that she wasn't a little bit happy to have him passed out again.

Catching her breath, she reluctantly felt for a pulse again. It was weaker than before. Not a good sign. She stayed kneeling next to him until the wound didn't feel wet anymore. The cloth strip was clotting the blood for now. If she could get him to her home, she could wrap it up properly.

There was the tricky part, getting him back home.

She could drag him, but that would probably hurt him. Never mind the fact that he probably weighted a ton in all that armor.

Grabbing his shoulder, she hauled him upward enough to get her arm underneath him and keep him propped up. His head dropped forward and onto his chest. It swayed back and forth like it was on strings. He was fighting consciousness and losing. She didn't have a choice, he would have to wake up and stand up. She couldn't do this alone.

Gripping his shoulders, she shook him a bit to wake up. When he didn't stir, she shook him harder.

"Oh, come on now. Wake up!" she groaned, trying to lift him into a sitting position. She heard him protest and moan. She breathed a sigh of relief. Noise, even if it was a grunt, meant life.

Her voice was nervous now. "Come on. I need you to help me. You have to stand up." She begged him.

Adrien was in and out of consciousness, but he started making sense of the words that were being spoken to him. He was also slowly recognizing that a voice was talking to him. Urging him on. Telling him to get up. Everything hurt. He didn't want to try and stand. He wanted to give up.

"Help me." Marinette coaxed him again. "Stand up."

He was starting to make out that it was, in fact, a female voice speaking to him. Yes, a soft, pleasant definitely female voice. Although, her voice was tinted with edges of nervousness.

He opened his eyes weakly, catching site of her dark hair, and the outline of her face framed in the bright morning sunlight. Something about her face reflected blue. He could have sworn it was her eyes. But his mind was too jumbled to put the pieces together properly. Besides, those people were practically extinct.

He shifted, trying to sit up, but failed. His body slouching back down and was about to crumble into a heap. He felt her arm wrap around his waist and hold tight with surprising.

Marinette struggled under his sudden dead weight. She could smell the blood, sweat and other vile smells that covered his body. He wasn't trying to get up anymore. He was barely breathing. Her heart dropped to her stomach.

"Please. If you don't get up, you'll die." She pleaded with him gently. Her lips close to the side of his face.

Somewhere in his mind, Adrien understood. Her words burned deep in his chest and pushed his mind past the pain and fatigue. He wouldn't let this be the end. Whoever she was, she was trying to help him. He dug deep within himself and forced his legs to work.

Marinette gasped in surprise when they started to move. She coaxed him with her voice – encouraging his movements.

Together, he was able to get up onto his feet. Even though he let out several loud and protesting moans at being forced to move.

Marinette had one of his arms draped over her shoulder and nearly all of his weight was leaning against her. She kept her knees bent and her stance wide to be able to support him.

Slowly, they began to walk. One foot at a time. But they did move.

Through the blurriness of his vision, he could barely make out the profile of her face as she strained with carrying his weight. Her dark hair was sticking to her face and they were both coated in sweat. He found himself getting lost at the site of her. She was a stranger to him. And yet, he was mesmerized at the thought of someone actually helping him. How had she found him? His gaze shifted downward, watching both their feet as they trudged along. He blinked long and hard to try and clear his vision from clouding over and willing the spots to go away. He was running out of strength. His body was giving up. The aching was about to steal his consciousness away once again. As if the grave was calling to him repeatedly to give up. Although, past that call of death, her voice was also there. Speaking to him gently, and kept reassuring him with every step they took together.

Marinette stumbled as the young man was barely hanging onto consciousness again, and she was forced to bare nearly all of his weight. Squaring her hips, she tried to brace his weight better. Minutes ticked by, feeling like hours.

It was slow going. But eventually, they made to her little home. Tucked not far away in a small clearing of the forest. If she managed to survive this ordeal, she silently swore to herself that she would buy a wheelbarrow. Just in case any other unconscious soldiers decided to enter into her life.

Marinette kicked her door open, ignoring the fact that the heavy door slammed into the wall and a few objects crashed to the floor. She grit her teeth. He felt so much heavier than before. Not knowing where to put him, she decided on the only rational place and all but dragged him over to her own bed. Using what remaining strength she had, she hoisted him up and sprawled him out on the clean straw mattress.

Straitening back up from being crouched over for so long, her back was stiff and her muscles screamed at her. She would be sore tomorrow. Marinette gazed down at her once again unconscious and injured houseguest. No wonder he had been so heavy towards the end, he had passed out again and she had actually been carrying him. He was limp and his breathing was shallow. He might not see tomorrow.

Marinette realized that she was panting and her heart was racing. She put her hand against her chest and willed herself to calm down. Her breath heaved in small gasps. This was a complete mess. The whole situation was crazy. She had a man in her bed. Sure, he was half-dead, but he was still a man.

Deciding that she'd taken a long enough moment, she dropped down at his side and tried to decide what to do next.

It dawned on her that she would need to get the chainmail armor off of him in order to see what she was working with. She felt her cheeks burn at the thought. She had to shove that embarrassment deep within and remind herself that she was trying to save his life. He would still be fully clothed, and there was nothing intimate about the situation at all. However, the more laces and buckles she unfastened, she could feel the embarrassment slowly eating her to death. She manipulated his arms and stripped him of the chainmail and gauntlets. His helmet had been left forgotten in the forest, she would have to retrieve it later. Somehow, she stripped all the armor off of him and shoved it away in the corner of the room for now.

First things first, she needed to clean the wound. Or, at least wash the dried blood away. Marinette left the man alone on her bed so she could get some water boiling and try and find some scraps of fabric to clean the wound. She ended up having to destroy more of her already tattered skirt in order to have enough bandages.

Adrien silently groaned as he felt his body get manipulated. But when the weight of the armor was suddenly lifted, he felt like he could finally breathe a bit easier. Each movement pierced into his very soul and he couldn't catch his breath. It felt like a cold wind was sweeping through his body. His body felt lifeless but the stab wound felt hot, like all the heat of his body was centered around that one area. Shifting slightly, he tried one last time to move, but the discomfort forced him to let out a hiss of pain and collapse once more. It was like he was living inside an injured shell of a body. His eyes fluttered closed and his mind shut down.

Marinette immediately set to work cleaning the wound. She cut sections of his shirt away, and stared blankly at the task set before her. The torn skin faintly rolled against his ribs with each labored breath. In that moment, her vision focused and she felt strangely calm. As gently as she could, she began to work. She had to empty her bucket three times and boil more water. But slowly she began to see the line actual damage that had been sliced into his side.

The wound was long and deep in places. She felt around cautiously for any internal damages, although she couldn't be completely sure. It would certainly scar terribly.

His body had more wounds than she originally noticed. Deep dark bruises around his chest made her think he potentially had a broken rib or two. She cleaned and bandaged what wounds she could see. All the while keeping an eye on the large one in his side. It would need stitches, and she was mentally preparing herself to take on that task soon. Although, she wasn't necessarily looking forward to it.

Time moved fast. The day quickly slipped into early evening. Marinette had to constantly throw more wood on the fire to have enough light to see what she was doing. It made the little room hot, but there wasn't much choice.

She moved around her tiny home like a buzzing hummingbird. Not bothering to stop for one moment to rest. Ripping clothes to make bandages and cleaning up soiled linens. Fetching countless buckets of water from the well outside. She made a sweet smelling salve mixture of natural herbs and aloe to help numb the pain. A home remedy her mother had shown her years ago.

Knowing she had cleaned and dressed as much of the medium and smaller wounds as she could. It was time to focus on the largest one in his side. She made him has comfortable as she could, dreading the next task before her. Speaking gently and kindly to him. Her voice was unbelievably sweet and soothing as she tried to calm his nerves and her own. Although, she wasn't even sure if he could hear her now. He didn't speak, only groaned and moaned with his eyes pinched shut.

She prepped her needle with sterilized thread. Kneeling before the young man, she took a deep breath to calm her nerves.

"I'm sorry." She warned the injured young man. "But this is going to hurt."

Adrien half heard her voice, somehow he knew it was coming.

Marinette burned the needle in the fire until it glowed and set the string to stitch his horrendous wound.

Quickly shoving a strip of leather into his mouth to prevent him from biting off his own tongue. He bit down instantly as the hot needle pushed through his skin. He hissed in discomfort as he felt the needle poke into his flesh. His body was tense with pain and he clenched his fists tightly into the straw of the mattress. His body bucked against the pain of the needle, but he held himself down. His chest rose and fell with labored heavy breathing. He knew what was happening, and endured the stinging of the hot needle. Making no attempts to stop her. Only groaned against the leather wedged between his teeth.

His head rolled back and forth in uncomfortable pain while he slipped in and out of fleeting sleep. He opened shuteyes to catch glances of her. The glimpses he saw of her face were blurry and jumbled. The bright firelight outlined her profile and illuminated her freckles. And yet, she was by his side.

Her face was serious as she worked. He was strikingly caught up in the loveliness of her face that he barely felt the throbbing anymore. He focused on the sweetness of her voice, which spoke constantly and reassured him that he was going to be alright. In many ways, he believed her.

Unnoticing his fleeting stares, she stitched him up quickly. Her fingers working fast. The stitches were small and tight, with barely any puckering of the skin.

When she finished the stitching, she dressed the wound with clean bandages and her homemade salve. As she wrapped them, she began humming to herself. More to just fill the silence than anything. It helped her focus on the task.

Finally, her guest seemed to unwind. His body relaxed, and his breathing returned to normal. He actually seemed to be sleeping peacefully.

Marinette sat back and finally stared at him. It was early evening and she felt exhausted. But she also felt this enormous sensation of accomplishment. Seeing how bad that injury had been. It was amazing he was alive at all. Whatever blade had sliced him had just barely missed any vital organs. He was lucky.

She let him rest and got to her feet to clean up. Her house looked as if it had been ransacked. She also changed out of her shredded skirt, opting for an older patchwork skirt that was a bit small. She felt a bit sad to lose the shredded skirt, the pattern was lovely and it had been her favorite. It couldn't be helped now, the young man had needed bandages and she was out of options. She kept stealing glances in his direction as he slept. Smiling to herself, she continued on with her forgotten chores. Still too wound up to even attempt to sleep. It seemed strange to just go about the evening as if something crazy hadn't just happened. But it occupied her mind for the time being.

Several hours later, Adrien awoke to a pounding headache. He was cold and shivering uncontrollably. Despite feeling cold, his insides felt like they were on fire. He awoke in fits of feeling like he was gasping for air and panting like a dog. His body aching to the very core.

His body had turned dangerously feverish to fight off the growing infection. The fever was making him delirious and knocked him in and out of consciousness. He knew that the fever was a bad sign.

In between half opened eyes he saw the young woman tending to him again. He hardly remembered a moment when she wasn't at his bedside now. Her voice was shaking as she spoke gently to him. Despite her encouraging voice, he struggled to get comfortable. He tossed and turned, unable to shake the fever that ranking his body in sweat but also made him feel colder than ice.

Marinette knew if she couldn't stop the fever, the infection would kill him. She forced liquids down his throat. Each mixture concocted with natural herbs to help reduce his fever and let him rest.

But as his physical state continued to worsen, she was worried that he may not make it.

It became her personal mission to save him. She wasn't sure why. But she knew for certain that he wasn't going to die on her watch.

She stayed with him all evening and long into the night. Even by the next morning, he was still feverish and shivering. Writhing in discomfort.

Marinette was frantic. If she couldn't break his fever, it would dehydrate his body faster than he could consume fluids.

She poured spoonful after spoonful of water into his mouth, but he wouldn't swallow it down. The liquid only pooled over his lips and soaked the remains of his shirt. All of her embarrassment of being near him was gone now. She was fighting to save his life. She could be embarrassed later. Right now, she needed to be smart.

Without any other options, she put water in her own mouth and pressed her lips to his. Moving her tongue, she pushed the water into his mouth and didn't release her lips until he swallowed. Over and over, she repeated this process. He drank. Slowly, but he did drink.

Satisfied with the amount of water he had taken from her, she began wiping his sweating body down and kept a cool, damp cloth on his forehead. Even fanning him to keep his body temperature from rising any higher.

Painstakingly, she repeated the process throughout the day and into the evening – caring little about food, water or sleep for herself. His physical state was not getting any better. She was frustrated and upset with herself. Afraid that he would die, and she would have failed him. Failed him without even knowing his name or anything about him. It hardly seemed fair. Life could not be this cruel.

Round the clock she fed him more water, replaced bandages and tried to keep him comfortable. Certainly this couldn't last forever, his body couldn't take much more. Her own body felt sore and beaten down. She spoke with him constantly. Pleading with him to get better and stay with her. Wringing out her cloth into a nearby pail, she was sponging down his face and neck – flushed red in fever. She sat next to him on the bed, humming softly to keep herself from crying.

Just as dusk began to settle in on the second day, his fever finally broke. The covers he had wrapped himself in, were thrown off. He was sweating, but his body wasn't hot to the touch anymore. His relaxed and he finally slept calmly.

Marinette collapsed on the floor and didn't move for some time. Her legs just couldn't work anymore. His bandages were clean, his body temperate was normalizing, stitches were still intact, and his breathing was regular. She watched him sleep, looking for any signs of discomfort. Finding none, she suddenly felt light headed and happy.

She had to remind herself that his fever could come back. But, for now, he could rest and be at peace. And, just maybe, she would find some serenity herself.

Marinette stood up on shaky legs and stretched. The battle was over. She had saved him. She felt an enormous sense of pride well up within her. The young man stood a fighting chance at surviving. His injures needed to heal properly, and that would take time. But the worst was over.

She turned her back on him and started to clean up. She got about a few steps in and her body felt weak. Exhaustion swept through her body like a tidal wave. She needed to sleep.

Marinette pinched her own cheeks and shook herself. Not now. She couldn't be selfish now. She could last a little longer. He could get sick again. She had to stay awake in case he needed her.

She went to the hearth and put a few sticks on the embers. Quick little flames leapt to the small branches and consumed them quickly. The little burst of heat struck her face and made her gasp aloud. A lot had happened in the past few days. But it was worth it.

Pulling herself together, she stood up and went to find something to nibble on. She settled on some wild nuts and a stale piece of bread. It was all she really felt like eating. The food gave her a renewed sense of strength. She picked up a few things that had been thrown about in her haste, and cleaned up any lingering bloody bandages. The house wasn't as clean as she would have liked it to be, but it was all she could do at this time.

Glancing back at the sleeping young man in her bed, she pouted a bit at having to sleep somewhere less comfortable. However, she quickly pushed that thought from her head. He needed it more than she did.

Grabbing a few unused blankets, she headed up a small, rickety ladder to the tiny loft space. The space had been her favorite place to play as a girl. However, now it was just used for storage. She shifted a few things around and spread out her blankets in a makeshift bed.

She didn't feel like undressing. Somehow, she just wasn't comfortable enough to be in her nightclothes with a strange man in her house. Finally lying down, she tossed and turned a bit. Despite her body's immense fatigue, she couldn't sleep.

Her mind was wandering with all of the what-if scenarios. What if he woke up? What if he needed her? What if he tried to get up and accidentally opened up his stitches? What if he needed more water? What if his fever came back?

She tried to push the thoughts from her mind. But they kept her from falling asleep.

Sighing heavily, she abandoned her bed and headed back down the ladder to check on him. He was just as she left him – still peacefully asleep. She checked his temperature and it felt normal. His pulse was steady and strong.

Kneeling down next to the bed, she felt foolish for being so panicked.

"Why do you make me worry so much?" she said out-loud. As if he would answer her. She smiled to herself at the thought. If he ever did wake up, he would certainly have questions. She had a few of her own for him to answer.

She let her head rest on her arm and stared up at his sleeping face. Yup, definitely handsome. Even while he was sleeping. Her smile brightened at the thought.

"So, you got a name?" she teased playfully. "Or should I just call you, Handsome?"

He continued to sleep soundly, unknowing of her words.

Marinette resituated herself to get more comfortable while sitting on the floor. She let herself be playful with her words.

Humming a short tune while she drew little imaginary circles on the mattress sheet, she tried to think of a backstory for her soldier. Or perhaps even guess his name.

"I bet the girls back home just love you. A handsome, honorable soldier..." She sighed in contentment and let her eyes drift closed. "Off fighting for his king… his country…" Her voice dreamy and breathy in imagination.

"Every girl's dream, that's for sure." She murmured as sleep washed through her body.

The happy words died on her lips, and sleep consumed her consciousness.

* * *

Adrien awoke. His senses were dulled and he felt like he was breathing through a straw, but he was conscious. He was alive. He tried to roll over, but the wounds still ached. His body felt like it had been ripped apart and put back together.

He had the strength to move his head and looked around the space he was in for the first time. He did not recognize the place at all. It certainly wasn't any kind of military infirmary. The room was small, but comfortable. The embers of a dying fire crackled in the hearth. However, they provided just enough light for him to see the other modest wooden furniture pieces scattered throughout the space. A closed and latched door was on the far side of the wall.

Buckets, clay pots, bowls and numerous craps of cloth were scattered or hanging up to dry throughout the room.

Glancing out the window, the darkness of the night reflected from behind the glass. The night sky gave him no sense of time. How long had he been out? Days? Weeks? How did he come to be here?

A shiver ran through his body, and he winced at the pain it caused. He was in bad shape. He needed water. But even blinking his eyes felt like a chore.

His head flopped to the side and forced his gaze to shift downward, and he froze at the site. Who? A person? Yes, a girl? Who was this? A young girl sat on the floor next to him. Her head leaning against her own arm as it was propped up against the bed he was lying in. She was fast sleep. Her breathing was rhythmic and her mouth hung open slightly.

He eyed her curiously, trying to remember if he knew her.

His brain began to put the pieces together slowly. He knew her. Yes, he remembered seeing her face in flashes of dim firelight. She had been the one to bring him here. She was the one to save him. She had kept him alive. She had been by his side the entire time.

Shifting slightly, the side of his body felt numb. But in a good way. It was masking the pain. His hands touched the wound at his side. It was covered tightly with a clean, sweet herb smelling bandage. He could feel stitches beneath the bandage. They seemed to wrap from his abdomen to the middle of his back. This wound should have killed him.

The thought made Adrien wince and his heart felt heavy with guilt. His mind recounted back to the battle he had escaped from. He had abandoned his men. He knew not if they were alive or dead. He sighed and blinked heavy eyelids at the sleeping girl. How had she managed to save him? He had not a clue. All he knew was that he was alive.

He had questions. Many questions. But, for now, he let himself relax. He was safe. The morning would bring answers to his questions. He still felt like hell. And, by the way the girl slept, she was exhausted. He would let her sleep. God only knows what she had done for him. It was a bit strange to watch her sleep, but she looked absolutely peaceful.

He couldn't help himself, but fill the silence with a small, teasing joke. "May I say, you're certainly not what I expected to see out here."

Why, he wondered. Why had she helped him? He was as good as dead. This girl owed him nothing. From what he could tell, she was alone in this tiny house located in god-knows where. He swallowed on a dry throat. He wanted water, but it could wait. The pleasantness of his surroundings comforted him and sleep washed over his senses once more.

He awoke again to the sound of birds chirping happily. He was being offered water, which he happily gulped down. His body ached a bit less, but he was still weak. He felt fingers run through his hair, an intimate gesture that certainly caught him a bit by surprise. Even though he couldn't deny that it was soothing.

He opened his eyes a bit to see her turn away and head back towards the hearth. He heard her mumble something that sounded like, "Get ahold of yourself. He's not a pet."

He smiled to himself. She was a sweet girl. He rolled over onto his side, something he couldn't remember the last time he was able to do. The new position was instantly more comfortable to his aching body. Snuggling contentedly down, he was about ready to drift back asleep when he suddenly shot out of the bed and practically ran out the partially opened door.

Marinette was shocked to see him jump up, and she even let out a bit of startled scream. She stood, rooted to the spot, as he ran past her and bolted outside. A few seconds later she realized what was going on, and let the man have his privacy. Constant of bed rest and continual fluids had finally caught up to his bladder.

She turned and busied herself with sweeping out the hearth. Even as she heard him stumble back inside, she kept her head down and pretended that nothing had happened. Hiding a deep blush on her cheeks as she remembered just how she had fed him all that water.

Adrien felt awkward as he collapsed back in the bed. Like a baby horse being forced to run just moments after being born. The sudden rush made his head spin. He glanced over at the girl, her head deep into the stone hearth cleaning it with vigor. This was certainly awkward, being alone with her now. Certainly while in her own home. With neither of them speaking yet. Either she was ignoring him on purpose or… something else. He couldn't be sure. All he knew was that his head was spinning and he needed to lie down. His side was throbbing.

He lay down and turned away from her, covering his head slightly with the thin blanket. He shouldn't be this embarrassed. But it was painfully obvious that he would have to address the fact that he was now alone with her. And from what he groggily remembered: she was pretty cute.

Marinette sneaked a peek over at him. Finding his back to her now. Well, he certainly must be feeling better. Her heart was beating fast at the notion. Why did the idea of having to talk to him soon sound so terrifying? Perhaps because, up until now, he had been mostly unconscious? So conversation had been remarkably easy. Oh, that sounded absolutely ridiculous! She focused her eyes back down and began scrubbing the hearth with both hands like a mad woman.

She would have to speak to him eventually. But, for now, she allowed it to be awkward for the both of them. She needed to prepare her questions. And her mind was fluttering with endless ones. His name. Definitely wanted to know his name first. That was certainly easy enough to ask. Nothing to complicated there.

Nodding to herself in confidence, she stood up and dusted the soot from her clothes. She turned towards the bed and walked towards him. She couldn't raise her eyes from the floor. She was simply asking his name. Nothing more. Quick. Simple. Almost effortless. Yep, she could do this.

"Name. Yours is? Uhh, I mean… Marinette. Me. That's me. But you? Oh geez. What is you? Name! I meant name. Yes. I mean, umm… Please?"

She mentally kicked herself for how ridiculous those words just fell out of her lips. Her foot seemed to be permanently wedged in her gaping mouth. Oh god, she might never recover from this social blunder. She was a nervous mess. And it was clearly affecting her speech. Ugh, breathe Marinette. He's just a man. A stupidly handsome young man. Must not think about that right now. It was a terrible distraction. Why was this so hard? Was it because she had fed him water with her lips? Like some kind of an lifesaving indirect kiss? Oh Gods no! It was exactly like an indirect kiss! No. No. No. Thoughts like that were not helping!

Okay. Stop doing this to yourself. Get ahold of yourself. Count it down. One. Two. Three. Try again. This time. Be calm.

"My name is Marinette. May I ask yours?" she said smoothly and evenly. Oh, that sounded so much better.

His response was only a soft but audible snore.

* * *

A/N: I swear they will talk to each other next chapter! lol :P

A/N: 2/16: (I'm back!) Small edits to this chapter nothing major.


	3. Chapter 3

(A/N: I'm back! I'm so sorry for the delay. This story is coming to me slowly. I seem to be writing it backwards, instead of forward. If that makes any sense...? It's just in so many different pieces at this point. Ugh. My world. Bare with me my lovelies. Thank you for your patience. I do want to try and post more. Please enjoy.)

\- Chapter 3 -  
Adrien stirred awake gently. He hadn't remembered falling asleep again. But, clearly, his body was still in a state of recovery. He wondered how long he would feel this way. He was groggy, and his limbs felt impossibly heavy, but he felt generally more alive than he had in days. Such an odd thought to have, that's for sure. He was practically dead. Or at least, he thought he was going to die. His mind had pretty much convinced itself to shut down and give up.

Opening his eyes just a bit more, he took the moment to full appreciate that he was actually alive. The realization humbled him a bit. He still felt like hell, but the pain would lessen. He would heal. His body just needed time.

He drew in a full and complete breath for what felt like the first time. His torso was tight from the bandages and the breath was shaky. But, the air was pure and alive in his chest. He was peaceful. Downright serene. Or perhaps it was waking up to the peacefulness of this little house. Staring past the edges of his pillow, he noticed the finely milled logs making up the nearby wall. Not a crack of daylight could be seen between them as they layered upon one another all the way to the low sloped ceiling.

He would love to make a timber house like this. Something so simple, and yet beautifully solid and comfortable. A house he could build with his own hands and feel accomplished with himself. Yes, that would be lovely.

Growing up, the vast estates and palaces of his childhood were always of stone or concrete. Leaving him feeling cold and alone with their high ceilings and vast hallways leading to locked doors. Full of beautiful and gaudy things that he couldn't touch or get dirty.

Blinking his eyes, he sighed the thoughts away. There would never be any escape.

Rolling his head to the other side. He looked for the young girl who had cared for him. His eyes first searched for her usual place: kneeling at his bedside. However, he found her spot surprisingly empty. The site saddened him. He could not remember a time where she hadn't been by his side – caring for him. This was the first time that the spot was empty since he could remember coming here. But even that was a little fuzzy. How long had it really been?

For some reason, he began to worry. He had grown accustomed to seeing her kneeling beside him, and now that she was gone – he grew concerned. It felt awkward to be alone. Especially since she had been by his side for so long.

If he thought hard enough, he sort of remembered their previous encounter. Had it been that awkward? And yet, she had all but ignored him. Surely, he hadn't handled it that badly? Then again, his bladder had been too full to worry about formalities or proper introductions.

Adrien put a fist into the thick straw mattress and attempted to sit up. His arms began shaking uncontrollably. Which made him feel ridiculous because he couldn't support his own body weight. He knew he wasn't this weak. Collapsing back into the pillow, he felt defeated and pathetic.

He wanted to search the house and look for her. A ladder to his right indicated that there was an upstairs – although it was probably nothing more than a loft. As more and more time went idly by, and he sat alone in the empty little house, the more he though he had imagined the whole thing. There wasn't really a young woman living alone in this house. Why would there be? Cute girls don't just appear and rescue people from certain death. Maybe he was dreaming? Or maybe this was heaven? Or at least his version of heaven.

He was certain that he could still hear her humming to him.

Adrien rolled his head to the side. Yes, he remembered that very distinctly. He wasn't crazy. His subconscious remembered it. No. It was definitely real. And it was growing louder with each passing second. He drew in a breath as the sound approached the door from the outside and began to fiddle with the handle.

Suddenly, his heart began to race in his chest. He wasn't ready to face whoever this was. In a split second decision, he shut his eyes, and pretending to be asleep as he squinted through his eyelashes. His peripheral vision straining to watch the door open.

The young woman fumbled through the doorway and muttering inaudibly to herself. She was awkwardly carrying a large basket against her hip. The basket was overflowing of herbs and wild greens. Shifting her weight, she closed the door with her foot and awkwardly heaved the basket up onto the only table in the room. Marinette let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding. The basket had been unexpectedly heavy. She had gone a little crazy picking herbs and vegetables because she wasn't sure what food her soldier would like to eat when he woke up. If, he ever woke up. She sighed to herself, but as she began unloading the items from her basket, her sigh turned into a little hum.

Straining his eyes, Adrien watched as she pulled a leafy green cabbage out of her basket and onto the small wooden table. She had a wide straw hat on her head that tied under her chin. There was something about her humming that relaxed him.

She began tearing the cabbage with her hands. The crisp stalks breaking in her grip with an audible crunch. When finished, she reached into the very bottom of the basket and starting to pull out colorful and pungent herbs – giving each a casual sniff, and then making an awkward facial expression at a foul smelling one.

Adrien chuckled, he couldn't help it. But the laughter made him cough suddenly. His throat was dry and irritated. The cough made his stitches pinch uncomfortably.

However, the coughing alerted Marinette instantly. It startled her to the point that she felt her heartbeat begin to quicken.

"Oh, you're awake..." Marinette called over to him.

Her voice sounded a little shocked. Okay, very shocked. She hadn't expected for him to be awake now. She wasn't prepared to face him. Sure, she knew it was coming. But she didn't feel prepared to actually talk to him. Which was silly, because she had already known him for some time. One could even argue that their relationship was rather… intimate. She shook her head back and forth wildly to get that thought out of her head. Her brain was swirling with nerves and building hysteria.

Or perhaps it was sheer panic at their inevitable first conversation. The time had finally come. She would have to face him now. She began to fidget with the knot to remove her hat.

At the sound of her voice, Adrien quit playing possum and opened his eyes fully. He slowly propped himself up for what felt like the first time in forever. He winced at the pain it caused, but it was at least mostly tolerable. He wanted to talk to her so badly. His mind was blurred with questions for her.

Delaying herself further from the short walk over to his bedside, she kept fiddling with the knot under her chin. Her fingers weren't working properly. The knot was battling against her. Her anxious mind could feel his eyes on her. He probably thought her completely ridiculous as she struggled with the knot.

After a few more long drawn out seconds, that felt like awkward minutes, she successfully untied the knot. Slowly removing her hat and setting it on the edge of the table, Marinette ran fingers through her thick dark hair and pulled it out of her eyes.

Breaking the awkward silence, since he hadn't responded to her first question, Marinette tried speaking again. But this time her words came out in a stutter of syllables.

"H-H-Ho-ow are you fe-feeling?" she called to him, still fussing with her hair as she cautiously approached his bedside.

Comfortably situated, Adrien looked up at the young woman beside him. She was avoiding his gaze while she smoothed her hair down. Her voice sounded nervous. He was nervous too. He opened his mouth to answer her question. He was going to tell her that he was feeling much better. He was going to ask her name. And then thank her repeatedly for her help. Perhaps adding lots of formal pleasantries to sooth his nerves about being alone with her.

However, at the same moment, her face turned towards his. And their gazes met. All the words died instantly on his lips.

With her face now free of hair, he caught site of her wide expressive eyes. Without even realizing it, she was putting them on display. She smiled at him as she tied her dark hair behind her head, fully exposing her sun-kissed and lightly freckled face. Deep down, she was so happy to see him awake. The joy spread into the sweetest of smiles, that reached all the way up to her eyes.

His brain abruptly tried to register what he was seeing. He blinked a few times to be sure he wasn't seeing things, or perhaps, even dreaming. He had just come back from the dead, there was a chance he could be seeing things differently.

She was speaking to him again, her lips were moving slowly, but he wasn't hearing the words coming out. He wasn't hearing anything except the pounding of his own heart beat in his ears.

His vision tunneled, and he held his breath tightly through half parted lips. He shook his head, unbelieving what fate had done to him. Or rather, what it had done to her.

The longer he stared. The more he came to understand what he was seeing. And there was no unseeing it now.

Her eyes were as blue as the summer sky. No, a bit darker than that. Like that of rich sapphires or a deep lake. Oh, there weren't proper words to describe the color. But they were blue. Oh Gods, they were absolutely blue.

Adrien felt his heart thunder in his chest. He was certain she could probably hear it from outside of his body. The weight of that color making his blood boil in his veins. He was having difficulty drawing in a full and complete breath. If he was even breathing at all anymore. He couldn't remember the last time he even took in a breath or even blinked. For fear that if he did, she would disappear entirely.

He had never seen a blue-eyed person before. He never thought to ever see one in his lifetime. No one did.

It was impossible. How had no one found out about her? How had she remained hidden for so long? It was more than impossible – it was downright incredible. Still, this was all too much. His palms were sweating. He was utterly mesmerized by the situation. It was like he was dreaming. Her eyes, they barely seemed real. To alive with life to be real.

How had he not noticed until now? Perhaps he had been too sick to pay much attention. He had never observed her eyes. Or, maybe, he had just never cared.

Marinette took his silence and distressed face as something was perhaps terribly wrong. Could he be feverish again?

"Are you alright?" she asked him. Those rare eyes filling with real concern that echoed into his very soul. Oh, it was both astonishing and terrifying.

He tried to speak to her, but gulped the words back down again. This was too much. It was all too much. He couldn't take it. His once warm body now felt cold.

Marinette glanced around wildly, unsure about what to do. His reaction was so unusual. She couldn't read his facial expressions at all. He just looked confused.

Then it dawned on her. Oh wow. Did he speak a different language than her? Oh geez, had she been trying to talk to him this whole time? And he hadn't been able to understand a single word she said? Or could he not speak at all? Oh, that would be terribly tragic. These were things she hadn't considered when she took him in.

"I… umm… ohh…" she muttered to herself, trying to figure out what to do.

Jumping instantly to conclusions that he couldn't understand her, she tried to make hand gesture communication, but ended up just flailing her arms about. She didn't know what to do if they couldn't communicate. This was all going downhill fast.

She turned around and frantically looked around for something. Anything to help her communicate with him. Maybe she could write something down. Could he even read? Not that she had any paper. Perhaps a burnt stick from the hearth?

Watching her turn away and move away, Adrien found his lost voice. He wanted to see those eyes again.

"You're… you're… one of …?" he practically whispered hoarsely.

Marinette stopped, and turned back around to face him. He had understood her. Now hearing his voice for the first time, Marinette suddenly felt a bit giddy. Oh, thank goodness. She really wasn't prepared for him not to understand her. And yet, at hearing his strange question, she cocked her head to the side in confusion by it.

"One of what?" she asked.

Adrien collapsed against the pillow, as he felt the weight of the world strike him down. Despite the injury that should have killed him, this was so much worse. Worse than anything ever imaginable.

She didn't know. Oh Gods in heaven, she didn't know what she possessed. She had no earthly idea. Oh, what the world would do to this poor girl – if they ever found her. His heart broke in half. He did not have it in him to tell her. How could he condemn the girl who saved his life?

Marinette watched his face fall. His green eyes filled with something she thought was sadness or pain. She was so confused by the emotions streaked across his face. Ever wanting to help him, her own mind could only think of the physical. Was he in possibly in some kind of physical pain? How was his wound or his stitches? Did they reopen?

Without thinking rationally, she reached out for him, like she was so accustomed to doing. But, suddenly, she remembered her manners and retracted her hand. Yes, she had cared for him for days, but it was different now that he was awake. She couldn't be so bold anymore. She couldn't just touch him so freely.

She didn't have time to pull her hand away, before he reached out and seized it with his own. The touch shocked her, and she tried to pull away. However, he held on with a strength that surprised her. He said nothing. Only continued to stare into her eyes like no one had ever done before. Flexing his arm, he pulled her closer to him.

All of the stories and tales of blue-eyed people told countlessly to him throughout his entire life. All the books and eyewitness accounts of their uncommon existence. He was born into a culture and society obsessed with the rarity of these people. It was like a waterfall to his mind.

He had to touch her. He had to. It was like he was holding onto a fallen piece of the heavens. He couldn't help himself.

His thumb stroked over the back of her warm hand. She was so real. His mind slowly twisted darkly into itself. The thought of owning her. Surely no one but him knew she existed. He had ever right to claim her. She was his, and his alone to have. Oh, that thought was enough to make him giddy.

His hand tightened on hers. His grip made her face wince in pain. She tried to pull her arm out of his grasp, but his other hand reached out and gripped her forearm. Pinning her close.

Marinette was scared now. She had not expected this kind of reaction. He was physically hurting her. How could this be happening? She was mentally kicking herself for helping him. This was the thanks she gets.

"Let go of me." She cried softly, pulling against him forcefully. She was seconds away from striking him, if he didn't let her go.

Her pain filled voice struck a nerve within him. Her voice reached deep into his heart, and slowly brought him back to himself. He was not this person. He could never possess anyone. He blinked once. Again. And then a few more times. The cloud in his mind cleared. Physically shaking himself out of his dream.

Instantly, he let her go. Marinette took several large steps away from him, clutching her hand to her chest.

No amount of apologies could correct what he had just done. But he at least tried to start with one.

"I I-I'm sorry." He spoke out to her. He looked into his own lap, ashamed that he had let those thoughts consume him so easily. Greed was such a powerful emotion. She was still a person. And she had saved his life.

Marinette stayed quiet. Not sure what to do just yet. She heard his apology, but she wasn't ready to trust him. Not after what he had just done. She took another step back, just to be safe.

Adrien saw her move further away from him. He felt horrible. He was a monster. People who tried to possess other people were monsters.

"Please. W-Wait. I didn't mean to… Please, I'm very sorry. I shouldn't have scared you like that."

Marinette's eyes narrowed. Despite his apology, she was angry. She demanded an explanation.

"What was that for?"

Adrien tried to shift and sit up more, but hissed slightly at the pain it caused him. His hand went for his injured side. "Ah, it was a reflex. I assure you. Please. I mean you no harm."

Marinette scoffed. "Well, it made for a horrible first impression."

Adrien felt the line of stitches under his shirt. He would have to look at it soon. The scar would be unbelievable horrific. He was in no condition to move around just yet. In fact, just this little amount of talking was draining his strength. Licking dry lips, he settled back and looked cautiously in her direction.

"Again, I do apologize. Please. I acted on impulse. I did not mean to scare you."

He sighed heavily. The feeling of the long wound against his fingertips was like a razor blade to his heart. He really should be dead. She had literally brought him back from the dead. He stopped touching the wound and put his hands in his own lap.

A life for a life. She saved his, he would not forsake hers.

His voice dropped very low now. Ashamed at himself and his knee-jerk reaction to her and her eyes. He spoke slowly, carefully. Letting the words pour from his lips and hold every bit of emotion he was feeling in his heart.

"I owe you my life for what you've done for me."

She let that third apology sink in. He sounded truly sincere. Besides, there was very little he could do to her in his weakened state. She felt confident enough in herself to inflict some major pain should he try anything again.

She moved across the room to the water pitcher and filled the dipper with water. Slowly, she walked back towards him and handed it to him.

Adrien graciously accepted. "Thank you." He quickly downed its contents and handed it back. Making no move to touch her.

Marinette crossed the room and filled it up again for him. "Thank you again." He told her as he downed the second one just as quickly. She said nothing, keeping her face neutral, but fetched him more. Her blue eyes watching him like they could read into his very soul. On the third pass, he sipped it more slowly.

"Thank you." He said for the third time.

"You're welcome." She politely returned.

He smiled weakly and nodded. He tried his hardest to look her in the face, and not just in the eyes. His mind wondered again if she truly knew what she possessed. Based on her reaction. It seemed very unlikely.

"Do you think you could eat something?" she asked, pleasantly now.

Adrien thought about it. His stomach felt like it was in knots, but he knew his body needed food. He nodded his blonde head in reply.

Marinette turned her back to him and went to the hearth to get the fire going. She could feel him watching her and it unnerved her a bit. She tried to focus on the other tasks. With the fire starting to kick up heat, she went to start grinding up some grains for a meager porridge. It would be gentle on his empty stomach./p

Looking over her shoulder, she saw that he had closed his eyes and turned away from her. That calmed her a bit and she worked quicker. She added a bit of lemongrass to add a note of sweetness to the porridge. She certainly wasn't going to make the meal completely unbearable to eat.

Once the porridge was finished, she walked back over and stood beside the bed.

"Can you sit up?" she asked.

Adrien shifted in the covers and nodded. Bracing himself on his hands, he pushed himself up. Still wincing at the pain in his abdomen.

"You might have some broken ribs." She told him.

He huffed at the comment, "Definitely."

He noticed that she made no move to touch or help him. His bad first impression had definitely dented their relationship. Although she swayed nervously as he tried to sit up. It was against her nature not to try and help. But he could do this on his own. He needed to at least try and sit up without aid. To distract herself, she kept mixing the porridge to help it cool faster.

"May I ask your name?" Adrien asked, finally situated.

She handed him the clay bowl. It would be rude to ignore him. He was trying his best to be polite to her. She felt comfortable enough to tell him her name. In truth, she was itching to know his.

"It's Marinette." She offered pleasantly.

Adrien smiled. He was glad to know her name. It suited her.

"Adrien." He told her. "My name is Adrien." He left out any further titles or royalties from his name. He wanted to keep it on a strict first name basis, for now.

Hearing him finally say his name, Marinette felt content. The mystery had been solved. Adrien. She let it fully sink in. His name was Adrien. Not Handsome, but Adrien. She finally knew his name.

Names now exchanged. It opened the floodgates for more questions.

"Is this your home?" he asked.

Marinette nodded.

"You live alone?"

She nodded again.

"Have you always lived alone?" he asked.

She shook her head no.

"Do you have—" he started to ask.

"You ask too many questions. Eat. You haven't eaten a full meal in days." She scolded him.

Adrien smiled dully and nodded. In truth, he hoped that he had the stomach to eat anything. The porridge smelled pleasant and it did make him feel hungry.

He took a bite and let the flavor linger on his tongue. He wasn't expecting the subtle bit of sweetness. It tasted delightful. Eating another few bites, Marinette took a few steps away. She felt silly just standing there and watching him eat.

"I'll… umm… leave you to eat… in peace." She remarked nervously. Before Adrien could say anything else, she scurried away across the room.

His heart sank a little bit as she moved away from him. But he didn't protest. He turned his attention back to the bowl in his hands. It was made of dried clay. Imperfectly shaped, but completely functional. He'd never eaten from a clay bowl before. That showed just how much of a silver spoon he was.

He took another few bites before daring to look for Marinette again. He found her back was to him. She had bundled groups of herbs and was hanging them upside down from a hook on the wall to dry out.

She turned and glanced his way, and their eyes met from across the room. Shyly, they both shifted their gazes away from one another. Adrien cleared his throat gently to fill the silence.

Marinette tried to focus on something else, but couldn't. Sighing to herself, she went and fetched another bowl and poured herself some porridge. She strolled over and gently kneeled on the floor by his bedside.

Adrien watched her come close and felt instantly happy when she joined him. He found himself blankly staring at ever movement she did. Even as she began to eat, he watched her.

Marinette looked up and found him staring. Her gaze timidly lowered, but her voice was playful.

"Eat. Or I'll make you eat it."

Adrien laughed wholeheartedly at her words. But was cut off by wincing in pain by the pressure it put on his stitches.

"Don't make me laugh." He wheezed.

Marinette smirked. "Eat. And I won't."

Adrien smiled at her. She was definitely not what he expected.

The pair shared a meal together and light small talk until both their bowls were empty. Their conversation continued even as Marinette cleared the bowls away and began to clean up. Marinette didn't ask anymore personal questions, and neither did he. They talked about the weather, what flavor was in the porridge, and about other flavorful herbs that Adrien knew nothing about. Marinette was happy to educate him.

After a while, Marinette excused herself to go gather more firewood.

"Do you need help?" Adrien offered as she was tying her hat on her head once again. He really wasn't in a position to offer help, but he couldn't help speaking up.

Marinette smirked at him. "I'll be fine. It hasn't rained in days. So I'm sure there is plenty of dry wood in the forest. Besides, you need to rest. You're still healing."

Adrien's shoulders dropped in silent depression. "I'm not used to being helpless."

Marinette understood little of his sadness but, in her own way, tried to make him feel better. "You may be helpless, but you're not hopeless. There is a difference."

Adrien smiled at her for what felt like the hundredth time. When was the last time he smiled this much? He couldn't remember exactly. He nodded at her in agreement and watched as she unlatched the door and disappeared into the bright sunlight.

He sank back down in the bed and rolled over. His stomach comfortably full and his mind content in thought. Although, he couldn't help himself but think again of those troubling blue eyes. He was so confused on how to feel about them. Or the maiden they belonged to.

Despite his conflicted thoughts, sleep pulled at his body once again.


	4. Chapter 4

\- Chapter 4 -

It was evening when he woke again. The little house was pitch black, unnervingly still and quiet. He could barely tell if his eyes were open or closed due to the darkness. If he squinted, he was able to ever so slightly make out the outlines of the objects around him. The hearth was dark and cold. Not even any dying embers burned.

He sat still for a moment and just listened. No wind in the trees outside. Just stillness. His ears eventually picked up the chirping of nighttime insects as they sung into the inky darkness.

He shifted in bed and sat up fully, staring out into the darkness and waiting for his eyes to adjust. To which, they didn't. It was just that dark.

Licking dry, parched lips, he was wide-awake. He wondered if Marinette was here. He hadn't heard her come back. But, clearly, he'd been asleep for some time. Perhaps even hours. Yes, certainly hours. Oh, but the sleep had felt glorious. It had probably been his first good sleep that he remembered actually falling asleep. Wow, that sounded ridiculous.

Shifting upwards in the straw mattress, he listened intently for any sound in the house. But only the nighttime bugs' songs echoed in his ears. His brain wandered back to thoughts of Marinette. He couldn't help himself. She wasn't at his side. What if something happened to her? As quickly as the thought entered his head, he shook it away. No, don't be silly. She was fine. He knew she was probably just sleeping up in the loft space. It was nighttime, that's typically when people sleep, who haven't been sleeping all damn day – like him.

And yet, he couldn't shake the feeling of wanting to call out for her. Just to reassure himself.

He threw the covers off of himself, and forced himself to get out of the bed. It was a gradual, and still painful process. His side hurt. It hurt a lot. The skin itches around the stiches. It was hard to resist the urge to scratch. The medicine she had put on it to take the edge off must be wearing off. It was painful to move. His body still felt slightly alien.

Gritting his teeth, he pulled himself onto his own feet. He'd be damned if he woke her up just because he was thirsty. She had cared for him enough. Let her sleep. Besides, he remembered where the water was. And he could dimly see the outline of the pitcher thanks to the moonlight. His eyes were starting to adjust.

Slowly, he shuffled his away towards it. One hand on his wounded side, the other stretched out in front of him in case he bumped into anything. Each step was awkward and slow. And, of course, the moment he reached the water pitcher, his knees betrayed him and he tripped. The half full pitcher of water, and Adrien, clamored to the floor and the loud noise echoed through the tiny house.

Adrien silently prayed she hadn't heard that. But he knew that wasn't happening. He felt like he was about to get his hand caught in the cookie jar.

"Adrien?" her sleepy voice called out into the darkness.

He breathed a small sigh of relief. She was here. She was safe. But, he had woken her.

"I'm fine, just getting water." He returned.

He heard her hurried footsteps as she began to move around the upstairs loft.

He tried to stand up, but the pain made him breathless.

"Don't get up. I'm fine." He called to her, gritting his teeth in the process. He tried to put some strength in his voice, but it failed. Gods, he felt pathetic.

She didn't respond. But he could still hear her movements and the rusting of clothes. And then, the distinct sound of her feet clamoring down the wooden ladder.

She was at his side in an instant. And he was still huddled on the floor feeling pathetic.

Her hand found his shoulder, and then pulled away.

"You're all wet." She remarked sharply.

"I may have knocked the water over."

"Are you hurt?"

"My side hurts." He answered honestly. No use in hiding it now.

"Let me build a fire. Don't move."

"No promises." He answered, trying to get onto his knees.

Marinette hurried to the hearth and began to start the fire, cracking small kindling and twigs that would catch quickly.

Adrien had made it to his knees when the first warm light began to fill the room. He could now clearly see the upturned pitcher on the floor. Along with the rest of its contents that hadn't managed to get on him. His shirt was soaked, but not terribly. Although his bandages were wet, they would need to be changed.

He was trying to get to his feet, when Marinette finally got back over to him.

"Why did you get up?" She scolded him, as she helped him get to his feet. With her help, he was able to stand, although he leaned heavily on her for support.

"I didn't want to wake you. I thought I could manage."

Together they made it back to the bed, and Adrien sat down willingly. His one hand still gripping his side.

"Don't be silly. You should have called me."

She called to him from over her shoulder as she went back and picked up the abandoned pitcher. Grasping the handle, she was a bit saddened when a piece of it had broken off. It was still functional; the handle was just no longer usable. Oh well. It was an accident. She made for the door and out to the well to draw more water.

"Don't move." She called as she disappeared into the night.

And, suddenly, Adrien was left alone once more. He pounded his fists into the straw mattress. He was not this weak. He hated himself for troubling her. This was not like him. And yet, he felt powerless. He was angry at himself. Angry at being injured. In this moment, he was angry at everything.

Marinette was back in just a short while, carting the now full pitcher in her arms. She retrieved the dipper from the floor and wiped it on her skirt. She walked the pail over to him and set it down before filling it with water and handing it to him.

"I'm sorry." He said while accepting the water.

"Don't be." She remarked sweetly.

"I've completely upturned your life, haven't I?" He asked, irritation burning in his chest. He took a long drink and handing the dipper back, to which she promptly refilled it once again.

Marinette didn't know how to answer his question, so she said nothing. Instead she turned away and began to gather up her salve and some clean bandages. In truth, yes he had. But it wasn't all bad. He was alive and getting better. This was certainly something she never expected to happen to her.

When she returned to his bedside, he was still hanging his head in silent shame. She had no words to comfort him, so she just kept silent. She couldn't magically heal his wounds, time would have to do that. He just needed to have patience. And patience was something she had.

Standing behind him, she leaned over and reached out towards his side. He saw her motions and slowly lifted his shirt to give her access to the wound. The situation felt so commonplace that neither of them felt nervous during the act.

Adrien let his frustration linger and continued to say nothing while Marinette unwrapped the wet bandages from around his stomach. Slowly, with each layer, the stitched wound revealed itself. Marinette examined in closely for any signs of infection or puffiness before drying the area completely.

"What time is it?" he asked her.

"Late." Was her only response.

Adrien looked over at the top of her head as she layered the thick salve on the stitches. Even in the low firelight, he could see his bruised colored skin and the black line of stitches. He still couldn't believe that the terrible wound was on his own body. He had never had an injury like this before. The scar would be on his body for the rest of his life. He didn't even have a cool story to go along with it. Like rescuing a damsel or fighting a fire breathing dragon. Just a careless defeat in battle. Nothing honorable or heroic.

"I'm sorry I woke you." He told her.

"Don't be sorry." Was her reply.

Adrien took a deep breath in and let it out slowly. The fresh salve was numbing his skin and the pain was lessening. He felt himself calm down. The anger and frustration melting away with Marinette's care. Once the bandages had been wrapped, he lowered his shirt and stretched a bit. Marinette moved away from him for just a few moments so she could put stuff away and tend to the fire.

He watched her move around. She had obviously gotten dressed quickly, and her hair was undone and a bit messy. However, that really didn't matter to him.

"Are you feeling better?" she called to him from her place at the hearth.

Adrien nodded. "Much. Thanks to you."

Marinette smiled slightly and tried to cover it up with her hand. Everything was so strange. She could care for his wounds and not feel an ounce of shyness, but the moment its over and she was right back to feeling awkward around him.

She really had thought he would sleep through the night. Dawn was still several hours away. Not that she was tired, at least, not anymore. The loud noise had woken her with such a fright that the adrenaline pumping through her veins would never let her go back to sleep. The noise he had made could have woken the dead. Her heartbeat still wasn't fully recovered from it waking her out of a dead sleep.

Standing up from the hearth, she wiped her hands on her tattered skirt and stared into the growing flames. Her mind wandering a bit. But that was nothing unusual.

Adrien eyed her standing there silently just staring into the fire. For a few moments, the only audible sounds came from the growing fire. He didn't like the silence. He wanted to get to know her more. Perhaps that would soothe their lingering awkwardness.

"Come talk with me please Marinette." Adrien called to her.

She glanced in his direction, her eyes wide and sparkling in the firelight. Adrien felt himself swallow his heartbeat for a moment. Those eyes were still unbelievable. He kept forgetting about them.

"Are you sure that you're up for talking?" she asked.

He smiled weakly. She cared about him too much.

"I'm fine now. So long as you're not too tired?"

"No, no. I'm fine." She responded sweetly.

"Please, come sit." He gestured weakly towards her usual spot at the side of the bed.

Marinette happily went to his bedside. Kneeling on the floor, she tucked her tattered skirt under her legs and situated herself comfortably.

Leaning hard against the pillows and sighing heavily, Adrien spoke up feeling guilty. "I feel really bad that I've occupied your bed for so long."

Marinette waved her hands in front of her face. Shooing his comment away. "Oh no, it's absolutely fine. I've made a nice little bed upstairs in the loft. I'm plenty comfortable."

"Still… you've had to uproot your whole life just because of me." He insisted again.

"Well… yes… but, my life was pretty boring up until you showed up." She told him with a hint of playfulness easing into her voice.

Adrien could only imagine how boring of a life it must be for her – hidden away in the forest. And yet, she had been safe and protected for so long. It was a miracle in itself really.

Adrien opened his mouth to thank her again for saving him, but she spoke up before he had a chance.

"Besides, it's been kind of nice to have someone to talk to."

Adrien smiled a bit brighter. "I agree."

Since they were finally talking so easily. Adrien decided to ask her a question that had been bugging him since forever.

"Forgive my rudeness. However, isn't it, well, a bit odd for a young Lady to be living out on her own?"

Marinette shrugged her shoulders. "Well, I guess I am a bit odd then." She smiled at her little joke, completely confident in herself.

Adrien noticed, but was still curious. "Surely, someone knows you're out here?"

"Oh, of course. My parents live in the village nearby. I visit them from time to time." She sighed heavily and then continued to speak. "But, I grew up in this little house. It, and the land, has been in my family for generations."

Marinette paused in her story. "Sorry, I hope I'm not boring you."

"Not at all. Please, continue." In truth, he was deathly curious at how she had survived all this time.

She smiled weakly and licked her lips before continuing. "My family and I lived in the nearby little village where I was born for many years, and would come out to this little house when the seasons change to farm and grow crops while the weather was good. The winters are pretty harsh so we usually all spend it in the village cocooned in during the cold and snow. My mama's health isn't too good, so she and papa stay up in the village. I'm old enough now that I can come out here and manage the farm for my parents."

'So that was the lie they were spinning her.' Adrien thought to himself. 'Keep her sheltered in the forest and out of the village where someone could see her in good weather. And then hold her up indoors during the winter.'

Marinette sighed contently. "Truth be told, I like it out here. The people in the village treat me like I'm made of glass or something. I'm barely allowed to draw water from the well! Out here, I can be myself. I have more freedom."

'The whole village is in on it.' Adrien remarked to himself. 'That's how she can go back and forth so easily.'

Adrien smiled at her. "You certainly seem capable to handling yourself."

Marinette beamed at his comment. "That's what I keep telling them! But, ugh… it's like talking to a wall. Especially my papa – he still treats me like a little girl. It's really so unfair…" She pouted.

Adrien could only imagine the pain her Father must endure on a daily basis. The terrible struggle it must have been to keep her a secret. The burden on their entire family.

Come to think of it, Adrien's Father was the same way about him. It took a lot of convincing to get the Duke to agree to allow his son to go off to War. And his Father had spared every expense to ensure that Adrien would not see the frontlines. He used every connection so that Adrien would be treated as an Officer, despite his age.

Little did he know that Adrien would get caught up in that ambush at the medical camp. It had caught everyone by surprise. It was perhaps the first real action Adrien had ever seen. And probably the last.

His Father will probably force him back home after this. Hell, he will probably lock Adrien in his room like a small child once he sees the scar from the wound in his side. The skin of his "perfect" son – scared.

Marinette noticed that Adrien seemed to be deep in thought about something. She fidgeted with her fingers in her lap. Perhaps she hadn't said what she said. It had made her sound like such a snob. But their was no denying that she was sheltered. She wasn't so naïve to not recognize it.

She was nervous to ask this of Adrien, but as the silence continued, her curiosity got the better of her. She was dying to know more things about life outside of her tiny world. Besides, it was only fair. He had asked his questions, now she had some of her own.

"I hope this isn't terribly rude of me to say… but, can I ask about where you came from… about the War?"

Adrien turned his head to fully face her. "What do you want to know?"

"Oh, everything really! Whatever you can tell me."

Adrien shut his eyes, and seemed to be suddenly tired. As if the conversation was exhausting him quickly. His mind still lingering on thoughts of his Father. He would, inevitably, have to face the music.

Marinette took note, and started to get up. "I'm sorry if this is too strenuous on you. We don't have to talk."

"No," Adrien answered, opening his eyes up once again. He shook the thoughts away. They were thoughts for another time.

"No, it's fine. It feels good to talk." He lifted himself up a little bit. "Please stay."

Marinette settled back down once more. She wasn't sure where to begin. So she started with the obvious questions that she had been dying to know. She had heard small stories and rumors about the types of men in command of the King's army. She hoped that Adrien wasn't on that side.

"Are you an officer in the King's army?" she asked.

Adrien shook his head slowly. "Officer-in-training." He corrected. "And no, I fought with the offensive in honor of the true royal family and to dethrone the False Prince."

"O-Oh. I see." Marinette said, a bit embarrassed by her question.

His answer had been so absolute, that she hated to ask anything else. She didn't know enough about the War to know which side was good or bad. No news ever really reached to her due to living so far out in the woods like she did. His armor that she found him in was very expensive and looked official. It made sense now that she knew he was an officer-in-training. And for someone so young…

Without thinking, the words fell out of her mouth.

"It… erm… must be incredibly noble of you. To fight like that… in honor… and… yeah."

Adrien smirked slightly. Honorable? Sometime he wondered about that himself. The whole damn war seemed downright un-honorable. If he had learned anything from his time shadowing the other Officers, it was that the War was completely irrational and unnecessary. So many pointless deaths. So much blackmail and deceit. Whatever purpose it held seemed to be long forgotten.

"Sorry. I… umm... I didn't mean to pry too much." Marinette babbled on. "I'm probably being so rude to you. I just don't know… and no one ever told me anything…"

Adrien leaned closer, in order to reassure her. "Your question was appropriate, Marinette. Don't worry about being so formal." He told her.

"Oh. I'm sorry. I just… I don't know much about what's going on out there…"

"It's better that you don't." He answered solemnly.

That night especially had been the stuff of nightmares. His mind shifted to his comrades and men he had abandoned on that battlefield. Seeing their bodies fall all around him as enemies poured from the mist.

Marinette began chewing on her lip.

It was. Adrien blinked hard. It actually was hard for him to talk about it. It wasn't fair for him to be alive. He felt like a defector. He would be ashamed to show his face at camp. Gods, if any of them had managed to survive.

He hated that so many good men had to die just to prevent the False Prince from gaining any further footholds. So long as their Opposition remained steadfast, Theo would not be able to push his influence any further.

Adrien grit his teeth upon thinking of his name. That man had the power to make all of this stop. And yet, he'd rather sit upon his fake throne, tucked away in his impenetrable fortress of a palace and ignore everything.

"Adrien?" she called softly.

Adrien looked at her. Her pure blue eyes were so expressive that the color seemed to wash over him. Pulling his mind to other concerns. Things beyond his understanding or reach. A whole new set of problems. Her face looked nervous, but she was leaned forward as if anxious to hear more. She seemed to hang on his every word.

"Is it really that terrible to talk about?" she echoed again.

"There are people who would want to hurt..." he started to warn her, but stopped himself.

"W-Why would someone want to hurt you?" she asked. Her voice shaking a tiny bit. She was scared for him. Not even remotely considering that she could be the one in danger. Not him.

He saw the fear pass through her face. This was not the conversation to have this evening. He was not going to worry her.

"It's alright. I shouldn't have said that. You don't need to worry."

Marinette ducked her head. Still persisting she asked, "Does it have something to do with the War?"

Adrien hated to let his dark stories worry her. It was against his better judgment to keep talking about them.

"Yes and No. However, it is not the most pleasant of tales for a Lady to be hearing…"

Marinette's head shot up. "Oh, please. It's okay. I don't mind. I've known so little about what's going on. I would really like to know."

"War is not pretty." He told her honestly. "But this one has dragged on so long. Sometimes I wonder if it will ever, truly end."

"What could end it?" Marinette asked.

Adrien looked confused by her question. So she kept talking.

"I mean, erm, what would it take to end it?"

Adrien didn't answer right away. He really didn't know the true answer himself. The goal for so long had been to de-throne the False Prince. But the Opposition never seemed to be able to touch him. He had too many connections. Too much power. He always seemed to slip through their fingers. And yet, everything Adrien ever learned about him – only made him hate him more. His mannerisms, his lack of respect for tradition, his arrogance. Adrien would have loved to see him get knocked down a peg or two. Hell, he sat on a fake throne with no title or name to claim. He was a wild card, faking being a Prince. It was maddening.

And yet, every time the Opposition could steal a victory. The False Prince's army would take it away. The more he sat observing the War Council, the more he had learned that the war was just a giant, endless game of cat and mouse. The False Prince's followers seemed like they had been brainwashed to follow him. He ruled with fear, not love. But, clearly, fear worked too.

Adrien shook the thoughts from his head. It was the same conversation he kept having with himself. In this moment, there were better things to think about.

He turned back to the lovely blue-eyed girl who had been reluctantly spared a life of trauma. If she could exist in the world unscathed, then perhaps another miracle could happen. Because that's exactly what it would take to end this War. A miracle.

Adrien smiled at Marinette, and finally answered her question.

"I honestly don't know."

Marinette chewed on her bottom lip again, this time, in thought. She crossed her arms over her chest and tilted her head, thinking further still. Adrien hadn't really given her any clues about what the War was about. It was almost like he was protecting her from it. Sparing her the horrible visuals. She then lowered her gaze, suddenly shy at the thought of him caring about her enough to protect her. Softly spoke in a tiny voice just above a whisper.

"Well, if you go back… I hope that you'll be… okay..."

Adrien's eyes narrowed in a sudden flair up of anger at her words. If? Of course he would go back. It was his duty to fight under his House and Title. A noble cause. He would never think to abandon his compatriots and friends. Nothing in life meant more to him that being a part of the Opposition's Army and fighting.

He glared at her, silently judging her words.

And then, as she lifted her gaze up and he caught site of the flush of her cheeks, the anger vanished instantly. Sweetness, compassion and worry poured from her eyes. He never had someone look at him like that. The firelight illuminated her face and accentuated its beauty. His shy savior. He didn't want to leave her. Not yet.

Looking into her eyes, but seeing past their color, he spoke kind words.

"We don't have to worry about that. At least, not right now."

Marinette smiled happily as he said that. He was right; they didn't need to worry about it.

Without consciously thinking about it, she scooted closer to his bedside. Adrien leaned in her direction more as if anticipating her closeness. Having shared something so dark and bittersweet, brought them closer somehow. Both a bit more trusting of each other.

The previous conversation died away. Its unspoken stories and dark histories pushed aside for the moment. In truth, while Marinette did want to know about the War – she wanted to learn about him more.

"Tell me more about your life. Where did you grow up?" Marinette asked, leaning against the bed now.

Adrien happily complied, and started sharing stories of his childhood. Marinette interjected with questions, and he answered them. Marinette gushed when he talked about all the places he'd been and the sites he had seen. She listened intently and painted a picture in her mind using his words.

His world had been so much more interesting than hers. In truth, she was insatiably envious. She didn't know anything beyond the little village or even the walls of this house. As they talked, she echoed those thoughts. Admitting to him how she wished to see more of the world.

Adrien didn't know how to respond to her words. In truth, it broke his heart. Her eyes would never let her see it. He could only listen to her sorrows and offer sympathy or try and make her laugh to distract her thoughts.

He kept telling her story after story. Being as detailed as possible so she could imagine it. Between the stories, Marinette fixed them both some very early morning breakfast. She sat on the bed with him as they ate together continuing to talk.

The pair stayed this way for hours. They talked, they laughed. Adrien teased her, and she got tongue-tied and embarrassed easy. But, sometimes, she fired back with a witty remark. To which, Adrien smiled and she found herself lost to his smile.

Dawn broke the sky and the world woke up. But Adrien and Marinette had already been up for hours.

* * *

(A/N: Maybe in the next few chapters we will start to see a bit of Adrienette. But then, I'm taking this story down its inevitable dark path. Also, to clear up a few questions I've been getting: Yes, I have taken a few liberties with the characters, and their eye color. Marinette will be the only one with true blue eyes. You'll have to wait and see how I handle Chloe's XD. Hope you enjoyed!)


	5. Chapter 5

\- Chapter 5 -

Marinette dug her fingers into the rich black soil, extracting the plump potatoes from beneath the roots of the hardy growing plants and putting them into her nearby basket. The mid-morning spring weather was downright perfect: warm sun, but the consistent breeze was cool and pleasant. She hummed while she worked. Birds chirped all around her, as if drawn to her little song. She hadn't really noticed them as her mind kept focused on her work.

She was more hoping that some plain boiled potatoes would be gentle on her houseguest's uneasy stomach.

Adrien stood in the doorway, leaning heavily against the wooden frame because his legs were still weak. However, he wanted to get his strength back. No. He needed to get his strength back. So he tried to push himself a little bit every day. He was tired of lying down, being injured and feeling sorry for himself. Although, he knew Marinette would probably scold him for being out of bed.

His eyes instantly caught site of her as she knelt in her garden. Her straw sunhat was forgotten, and hung on her back with a small piece of string. Without the hat, her dark hair was free to blow in the breeze.

He felt guilty that this poor girl was constantly waiting on him hand and foot. She didn't know him for anyone. She was a kind-hearted person. And yet, the more time they spent together, the more he was getting to know her. And the more he liked her company.

She was so different than the other girls he had grown up with. The snobbish daughters of lords or nobility who ran in his similar social circles were all such a bore. Every one of them looked the same, and acted the same. Delicate, airheaded and afraid to get their hands dirty.

The last thought especially, because he was watching Marinette dig in the garden. Not caring to get dirt under her nails, or on her clothes.

Lost in his own mind, he didn't exactly notice her look up and see him. He caught site of her freckled face with gathering concern filling those precious blue eyes. He silently wondered if he would ever stop being awestruck by their color.

"Are you alright? Is something wrong?" she called over to him.

Adrien shook his head slowly. He had been caught out of bed. "No. No, I'm fine."

He watched her physically relax at his words. She seemed to like to get herself worked up over nothing. It was rather endearing.

"Then what are you doing getting out of bed?" she scolded him, putting the potato she was holding in the basket next to her. She really couldn't blame him for wanting to be outside on days like today. The weather couldn't have been more beautiful.

As if he could hear her thoughts, he lightly chuckled and said, "It's such a lovely day. I couldn't miss out."

Marinette wanted him to stay and talk with her. But she also vividly remembered having to pick him off the floor just a night or two ago. Sometimes he pushed himself too hard. Her mind instantly began to think of the worse possible situations, and such, the words just fell out of her mouth:

"You could re-open your stitches. Or get light headed and pass out. You're not at your full strength yet. You're still healing." She pleaded with him over and over again.

Adrien had to chuckle again at her constant jumping to conclusions. He laughed at her only because she did care. Really, she almost cared too much. He wasn't worth the worry. However, he couldn't bring himself to argue with her.

"Okay, okay. I'm going. I'm going." He teased her gently.

He turned and pretended to be heading back into the house, although he did linger in the doorway for a bit longer watching her as she stood up and moved to knelt down by another potato plant. Her back was to him now as she dug her hands back into the soil. She wasn't looking at him anymore. There was no way she'd know he was still standing there hidden in the doorframe. Perhaps he could sneak a few more minutes of sunshine before getting caught again?

Without turning her head or looking up from her work, she called out. "You don't listen very well, do you?"

Adrien laughed out loud. He laughed so hard that he had to lean against the doorframe to keep from falling over. And, it actually didn't hurt his wound to laugh like this. How did she know him so well? Was he really that obvious?

Marinette heard him laugh, and she felt herself smile brightly. She was glad her back was turned, so he couldn't see how red her face was. She surprised herself sometimes with what comes out of her mouth. It was like he was slowly chipping away at her shy exterior.

"How did you know?" he called, wiping unshed tears of laughter from his eyes.

Marinette looked sharply over her shoulder. "Woman's intuition." She said slyly.

Adrien kept smiling at her little joke as he slowly sat down on wooden front step letting his feet touch the grass. The bending was strenuous, but tolerable.

"If I sit right here, can I stay?" he sarcastically begged.

Marinette smirked and turned back to her potato plant. "I guess you can stay." She called back, matching his sarcasm with her own.

A gentle wind began to blow through the trees, and both of them stopped talking long enough to appreciate the cool breeze against their faces.

Adrien dug his bare feet into the grass. Marinette was always barefooted or wearing thin linen shoes. Adrien couldn't remember a time when he wasn't always wearing thick leather boots or some kind of fancy dress shoe. The feeling of the grass between his toes humbled him for a moment.

Everything about this little house, from the vegetable gardens to the surrounding dense forest, was delightful, comfortable and just enough. No one could really ask for anything more. And, truthfully, no one needed any more than this.

His father's estate had gardens, but they were mostly for flowers, shrubs and fountains. Pretty to look at and walk through on days like today.

He wondered what Marinette would do or say if she ever got to see the estate. Would she like the stone walls? Would she enjoy exploring the multiple vastly decorated rooms? She certainly wouldn't have to worry about cleaning them.

He tried to image her dressed in something other than her tattered patchwork skirt and grass-stained blouse. But, for some reason, the moment he thought of it, the more he disliked the idea. He didn't want to image her as some Duchess or Countess – it didn't suit her. She was nothing like those girls. Besides, he liked her because she was who she was naturally.

Marinette kept working. She could feel his eyes watching her, but she was starting to get used to it. Her own mind always asking herself questions about him. Questions she was still too afraid to ask. Well, not afraid, just too shy.

Despite the stories he had told her, she was always filling in the gaps with her own fantasies. More often than naught, she had to pinch herself awake because her daydreams tended to outweigh her rational thoughts. Especially when it came to Adrien.

She hoped he was confortable here. She really wasn't sure the kind of luxuries he was used to. He hadn't talked much about where he was from. She could only take an educated guess that he carried some importance. And yet, why had no one come looking for him?

Maybe they should take a trip to the village? He might be able to get a message to his fellow soldiers from there.

A sudden feeling of anxiety gripped her stomach. She wasn't ready for him to leave yet. It would be so sad to see him go. But, she would like to think that they had become somewhat of friends. After he inevitably did leave, would he ever come to visit her? Was she stupid to think that he cared enough about her to do so?

Or… possibly… what if… she could … go with him?

"Can I help with anything?"

Marinette physically jumped at the sound of his voice. The last thought had made her heart race.

"No!" she cried, scrambling to her feet suddenly. Her voice had sounded panicked and ridiculously high pitched. Must calm down. Must calm down. Those thoughts had no place in her head. Her place was here. Her life was here.

Afraid to look at him because she felt so absurd, she ducked her head in shame and repeated. "No, it's okay. I'm fine."

If he had noticed her little outburst, his voice hadn't changed. "Are you sure? I really don't mind helping."

Oh, but what an adventure it could be. She was dying to see the world outside of this little house. The opportunity of a lifetime was here. And it was him.

Marinette tried to appear un-frazzled by hastily brushing the dirt off her skirt and knees before gathering up her basket of potatoes.

Erase the thoughts. Don't even think such things. He won't say yes. Don't be silly.

Even though her heart and head felt disconnected, somehow, her mouth just automatically kept talking like it was on a default setting.

"I've got it. Don't worry about anything. You just rest."

Rest. Adrien was tired of resting. He wanted to be useful. Besides, he needed a distraction from his own thoughts. Dangerous thoughts. Thoughts of living just like this: Free from the hierarchy. Thoughts of abandoning the life he previously led. And spending more days with the grass between his toes.

If Marinette had been able to hide for so long, perhaps he could too?

No. He should not think such things. He would have to go back. He was healing. His strength and stamina were slowly returning. He had friends and people who would worry about him. Even his Father, aloof as he may be, was still family.

And yet, his young heart felt torn. As if pieces of himself were scattered everywhere. One piece fighting with his men. Another at home with his father. And another here, with her. That last thought surprised him. But their was no denying that he felt connected to this place, not only because of the remoteness, but also because she was here.

Sighing to himself, he waited a few moments before actually saying something further to her last remark. If he was going to get enough stamina back, he should at least be able to take on some of the chores. He recognized how much she did in a day. While he didn't have her natural energy, he could at least do something.

His deep-rooted manners and politeness urging his tone of voice. "Is there anything I can do? I'm really starting to feel like I'm taking advantage of your hospitality."

Marinette lightly chuckled at the comment, mostly to hide her anxious heart still echoing the thought of going with him.

Could she? Gods, it felt like it would be so easy. There was nothing stopping her. She wouldn't go away forever, just a quick trip. Just to see a few of the things that he had talked about in his stories.

All she had to do was ask. Could she ask him such a thing? Would he say yes?

"Not at all. You're my guest." She automatically answered.

She was stubborn, Adrien realized. Both of them were. Either stubborn or excessively polite. Either way, he was going to make himself be useful.

Adrien watched as she headed towards the well, her quick feet moving fast. Gritting his teeth, he pulled himself onto his own feet. She was already drawing water by the time he stood up and hobbled over to stand next to her.

He grabbed ahold of the rope, and that action made her turn and face him. The line of his body inches from hers.

"Please." He told her gently.

Close. He was too close. Oh gods, she had goose bumps now.

Marinette stared at him, barely remembering to blink.

She was suddenly envisioning their journey together. The images so vivid that she could almost hear the sounds of the horse's hooves as they traveled all day, and slept in different places each night. Perhaps some nights, even sleeping under the stars. Perhaps seeing the ocean, or the mountains. Meeting new and exciting people. And, best of all, she would never be afraid, because he was there. He would be her guide. And, maybe, he would slowly fall for her…

Her face filled with color. So red that she felt feverish. Her heart couldn't take these thoughts. She was doing this to herself. She didn't have to feel this way about him. The seeds of hope planted in her mind.

"Let me help you."

She opened her mouth to ask him. Her heart felt like it would burst from the anticipation. He wanted to help her. Let this be what she asked for.

"… help… me…?" she whispered breathlessly.

Adrien nodded, and tilted his head slightly at the sound of her voice. Did he really make her that nervous? He had not meant to upset her.

Cautiously, he let go of the rope and took a big step away from her. She obviously didn't like the closeness. He shouldn't have been so bold to stand near her like that. He had made her feel uncomfortable again. It had not been his intention to constantly make her so nervous around him. He kept messing things up between them. She wasn't the kind of girl to act so forward – he had to keep remembering that. He would never want her to change who she was just because he felt more comfortable being closer to her. Curse these thoughts he was putting in his own head. He had to respect her boundaries.

With that distance now between them, Marinette's daydream popped. In its place, was a harsh dose of reality. She was being completely and utterly ridiculous. If he could read even the slightest bit of her thoughts, he'd probably run screaming into the night. She was so utterly pathetic in every way that it was humiliating.

Away, she needed him further away now. Far enough to clear her thoughts and climb back into a normal state of mind. Learn how to breath again.

As a cover, she let her voice slip into a teasing tone. "Fine, fine. If you really want to help. Go gather all the linens from the bed, and I'll wash them."

Adrien jumped at the opportunity and smiled brightly. Happy that she was letting him finally help her. Maybe he hadn't messed up so bad after all? Nodding his head excitedly, he turned and made his way back to the house.

The moment he was out of earshot, Marinette released the rope and let the pail fall back into the well. She turned and bent over the well's wall, covered her mouth and nose with both hands, letting herself finally breathe and come back to her senses.

She had let herself go too far that time.

He would go back to War, and she would stay here. Like she always has. And will continue to be. The lands outside her little world were not for her to frolic about like she did not have any responsibilities to her family.

She could never be so selfish to ask Adrien to give up his life just to allow her to sightsee.

And Adrien was not hers. He probably would never be.

She firmly pinched her cheeks to fight back the tears that threatened to spill over. The self-inflicted sharp pain brought her fully back to herself.

After that moment, she felt better, and began drawing water from the well once again.

It amazed Adrien how winded he got just from collecting sheets and blankets. The bending the stooping to get the sheets off the straw mattress was enough to make him light headed. However, he pushed through.

When he finished, he helped Marinette empty a few buckets of water into a large, wooden washtub. He tried to help her wash the linens, but she playfully shooed him away. Instructing him to go hang the clothesline between two specific trees.

That task, as it turned out, was harder for him than he thought. Reaching up put a lot of pressure on his side as the healing skin was stretched uncomfortably. It also felt like it took him an eternity to hang the silly string, as it kept falling due to his knot not being tight enough. He grumbled a bit to himself.

Finally when he finished, he stepped back to admire his handwork. Slightly proud of himself at the simple accomplishment. But at the same time, realizing that he had actually broken a sweat.

"You hung it to high!" Marinette said from behind him.

Adrien turned around and saw her standing a few feet behind him, a basket of wet linens at her feet. Had she really done all the laundry in the time it took him to hang a stupid clothesline? Wow, he was still pretty pathetic.

Marinette looked at him, to the clothesline, and back at him again. "How am I supposed to reach that?"

Glancing at the clothesline, Adrien hadn't done that on purpose. It was a normal height for him. It honestly had slipped his mind that it might be too high for Marinette.

Although, he couldn't help himself but tease her about it.

"Want me to give you a boost?" He slyly added. He cupped his hands to act as a foothold and couched down slightly.

He watched her nose wrinkle in delightful annoyance at his little joke.

"If you're healthy enough to crack stupid jokes, then you're healthy enough to help." She sassed him, picking up the basket of wet laundry.

Adrien's hands went to his injured side and he hunched over. He poured a whiney plea into his voice.

"No, please no! Don't make me. I'm sick (cough). So very sick (cough cough). My stitches! Oh the agony."

Despite his desperate fake pleas, Marinette thrust the basket of laundry into his chest sharply. Not buying his jokes for one second. Her lips forming a playful smile as she did so. He could be such a goofball sometimes.

The pair spent the next few minutes hanging up sheets and blankets on the clothesline to dry in the warm sunny breeze. Adrien told her a story about doing laundry in the barracks. It was pretty common for soldiers to steal from one another. He had to settle a few disagreements over stolen underwear. Marinette laughed at the story, not caring if it was true or not. She liked listening to his stories. Before long the clotheslines were filled and flapping happily in the wind. Stepping back, she admired their teamwork. The chores certainly went faster with two people helping.

Putting the empty basket against her hip, she walked around the wall of laundry and back toward the house. Coming around the corner, she collided into him as he was coming the same way looking for her. The collision knocked her backwards and she stumbled, ready to hit the dirt. However, he caught her around the waist and kept her upright.

The sudden closeness was unexpected and downright silly, but it still didn't stop her from catching her breath as she looked up briefly and longingly into his spring colored eyes before hastily looking away.

Even though she couldn't ask to go with him when he eventually leaves. She could be content with recognizing the fact that she had already falling for him. And, for now, that was enough.

He released his grip and she scurried away from him. Head cast downward to hide her embarrassment. It was fleeting moments like these that brought the anxiety right back again. Unnerved that something was happening between them. But they were both too young to admit it.

* * *

(A/N: A massive migraine headache prevented me from going to work today. But, it it allowed me to work on a new chapter. So, yeah... Worth it! Kinda... sorta... Anyways, thanks for reading! Love you all!)


	6. Chapter 6

\- Chapter 6 -

The more time they spent together, the more they began to care for one another. They days soon blended together, delightfully so, and in pleasant company.

Under her care, his wounds began to fully heal. Soon the dark, scabbed skin turned into soft, new, pink flesh. The scarring was horrific to look at, but there were certainly worse alternatives.

Sometimes Marinette would catch him gazing at the scars that now permanently tattooed his skin. She didn't dare bring it up in conversation. But just from the way his eyes grew distant and morose, she knew the sight of them weighed deeply on his conscious.

She wanted to ease that pain. She should have been able to do more for him.

In her mind, she was across the room standing with him, running her fingertips against the scarred flesh. Feeling it like she had felt it hundred times before, but hoping that her small act of touch made him feel better – at least, for the moment. Bring him out of his own mind, and perhaps smile for her. She did not see his scars. But her mind let that particular vision disappear, simply because it filled her face with a noticeable heat – that she would not let him see.

On more than one occasion, Adrien would notice her staring at him. He wasn't quite sure why, but it made him feel awkward. Not that he disliked it. Quite the contrary. It was simply because he didn't know what to say. And yet, he would be lying to himself if he didn't do the same thing when she was buzzing around the house and gardens with this natural vibrant energy. He especially grew to like teasing her to the point that she got annoyed enough to tease him back.

Adrien found that with his consistent teasing, she gradually came out of her shy shell. Even if it was an almost daily battle. But one he happily did. He liked seeing that transformation in her. And, he loved hearing her finally open up and talk with him. He couldn't get enough of her "ramblings" – as she called them. He found them endearing.

He knew all about her parents, both alive and well, and living up in the nearby village. He knew of her childhood, and how cautiously she was brought up in this world. He had given up wanted to warn her about her eyes. It didn't seem relevant anymore. She was safe here.

In turn, he told her things about himself that he had not shared with anyone. He talked about his Father, and their dismissive relationship. But, mostly, he talked about his Mother. He had very few memories, but they were precious. Perhaps that was why he shared them with Marinette. It only seemed right to share these particular stories with her.

The days of beautiful weather came to an abrupt end. Light grey overcasting clouds covered up the sun, making the days seem dreary. Eventually, the hazy clouds were replaced with moisture heavy storm clouds that marked the sky like a deep colored bruise.

Adrien paused mid-stretch, and let out a heavy sigh. He made a face at the tightness that had formed in his lower back, making the stretching absolutely necessary – per Marinette's instructions. However, the dark sky reminding him just how his skin had once looked. And he began to feel a little depressed at the state he was still in, even after all this time.

Marinette made sure that the new skin that formed to cover the once gaping wound stayed flexible. And with his renewing strength, she did allow for Adrien to help her with more chores. But only after he did a rigorous amount of stretching and bending that Dr. Marinette had ordered him to do under pain of her glaring eyes.

Adrien's side majorly protested against any stretching or physical therapy. The weak muscles were not happy to be forced into movement after being disabled for so long.

"Keep stretching!" Marinette scolded him even with her back to him, as she busied herself with one of hundred tasks that she did in a day. She knew he wasn't pushing himself like he needed to. She could hear his heavy sighing from across room. She knew he'd start feeling sorry for himself.

Adrien groaned at her words, but also couldn't help but smile to himself. How did she know? His heart warmed at how concerned she was for his well-being.

He teased her back, "You know Marinette, you're so unfair."

His voice whining because he knew just how to tease her to the point that her shyness fell away, and he got to see her sassiness come out.

Marinette's head snapped around. She twisted her face into an adorable looking sneer as she pointed an ear of corn threateningly at him.

"The scar tissue will firm up if you don't stretch the muscle." She scolded him. "Give me five more!"

"Five?!" he wailed. "I've already done four."

"Keep whining, and I'll make it ten to your four." She replied with a heavy amount of sass coating her sweet voice.

Adrien let out a laugh as he reached for his toes once again, groaning in the process. She had an answer for everything. He may have met his match.

The rain abruptly started up once again, rolling in heavy waves accompanied with flashing lightning and deafening thunder. It was the kind of weather that made everything simply stop and take shelter.

The roaring wind was blowing the rain sideways. The air was clouded with a misty steam that prevented visibility for more than a few feet.

Marinette's tiny house was tight and secure from the pouring rain. However, it had been raining on and off all day limiting what chores she could do outdoors. The downpour had been going on for some time, and she was starting to go stir crazy being trapped indoors. Not to mention, she was worried what this kind of rain would do to her delicate vegetables.

She had had an abundant amount of vegetables this year. Too much for even two people to eat. It was uncommon for her to pay a visit to her family this time of year, but she hated to see them go to waste. Especially because she had another set of hands to help her carry things. The thought stayed I the back of her head while she worked.

She mostly worried about her parents meeting Adrien. Even though there was a perfectly logical explanation for why he was with her. Besides, he was a kind and honorable young man. They would love that about him.

She busied herself with cleaning the already spotless table or sweeping the pristine floor for the dozenth time. For now, she took a pause to stare out the tiny window and watch the gloomy weather.

Adrien was taking the time to meticulously clean and mend his armor. Which had sat forgotten in the corner of the little home for a long time. He kept hearing her move around the home – her quick footsteps practically bouncing off the wooden floorboards.

Placing the piece of chainmail to the side, be stood up fully and listened. The rain was really coming down outside. In almost sounded like a roar. He watched Marinette gaze longingly out at the weather. He knew that she hated to be indoors.

Without chores to distract her, Marinette felt inclined to slip back into her anti-social awkwardness around him. She tried to convince herself to think differently, but she couldn't. She was starting to like him. Really like him. They had spent every night and day together for a couple of weeks, it was hard not to find him charming. Gods, had it already been weeks? She had lost track of the days.

"Hate being indoors?" He called to her.

Her head turned towards him and he saw her faintly smile.

"Is it that obvious?"

He returned her smile with one of his own. "I'm the same way. Being in bed so much is starting to make me stir crazy."

Marinette left the window and walked closer to him. "You're healing well though. You'll be back on your feet in no time." She tried to encourage him. The gloomy weather was effecting both of their dispositions.

"Not fast enough…" he remarked coldly. Feeling a bit like a wounded bird, unable to fly.

Their conversation ground to a halt and Marinette chewed on her bottom lip out of nervousness. They were both bored.

"Are you hungry?" She asked trying to fill the silence while sweeping frantically again. "I can whip up some dinner for us. Do you feel like having anything in particular?"

Unable to resist the temptation, Adrien smiled to himself like a fiend as he built up his next whitty response in his head. His next comment would surely earn him a flustered reaction or a sassy remark. He let his voice drop low and practically purr the words out.

"Why, Marinette. I'm beginning to think you're trying to fatten me up so you can finally cook me for dinner."

The sudden teasing caught her off guard. She wasn't expecting to hear a sly joke come out of him. Marinette sucked in a surprised breath and stared at him with wide eyes.

"Oh!" she huffed in exasperation. "You. What? Oh! No. I. I. That's not funny!" With each tiny word that left her mouth, she grew more and more annoyed and flustered.

Without thinking, she crossed the room and began smacking him with the bristles of her broom out of frustration. Her face was lit alive with embarrassment. It felt so good to playfully hit him. Her embarrassment quickly died away, and she just batted at him with her broom.

Adrien all but jumped backwards and put up his arms to defend himself from her little attack, as she suddenly had him pressed into the corner. Laughter poured from his lips as the scratchy straw broom hit him repeatedly in the arms.

He let her get in a few good hits before he caught the handle of the broom and pulled back. His strength caught Marinette by surprise as she was suddenly wrestling the broom with him. Squaring her hips, she pulled back on it with all her strength, trying to get him to let go. However, he wouldn't let go so easily.

He did manage to turn the both of them around. So that he was no longer backed into the corner. He doubted that Marinette even noticed the action, as she was too busy trying to wrestle the broom away from him.

Pulling against the broom put the two of them nearly face to face. Marinette's face twisted in playfulness and a huge smile brightened her face as she fought with him. It was plain to see that his strength was quickly outmatching hers, but she didn't give up so easily. Although, she did loose a bit of her willpower now that the both of them were laughing together.

Adrien's flashed her a playful smile. "Do you think you can best me?" he teased her.

"Easily." She instantly teased back, shifting her grip to twist the broom away from him.

"May I remind you that I am a trained soldier, with years of battle experience? Surely you cannot hope to defeat me?"

Adrien held on tighter, impressed with her tenacity. Not that he ever wasn't impressed by her.

"May I remind you that… I don't care?" Marinette countered playfully.

Throwing her weight forward, she knocked him off balance, and he fell backwards onto the bed. Landing softly on the straw mattress.

Being knocked down caught him by surprise for a second, but only a second.

"Very good." He complimented her.

Marinette stared down at him victoriously as he lay on the bed beneath. Her breath coming in small gasps, but her smile unwavering.

"Not bad at all…" he said again. This time his voice was lower. More calculated.

"… However…"

Faster than she could blink, he dropped his grip on the broom handle and moved. He was suddenly behind her. She barely managed to throw an arm up to stop the handle of the broom from being pressed against her collarbone.

Using the broom, he held her immobile and pinned her back close against the front of his body. Oh, so very close. Too close. She could feel his breath on the back of her neck. She tried to push the broom handle away from her, but he held it tightly.

He had the strength that she didn't. She had always though of herself as spunky and strong, but against a trained soldier – it was painfully clear that she was not what she thought she was. Using the broom handle, her back was now pinned against his chest. Despite her wiggling, she couldn't move him off.

She pushed on the wooden broom handle and stomped her feet to try and get away. But he held her still.

Panting, she tried to relax. Her heart was racing and it made her breaths heave in her chest. Somewhere in her mind, she was excited. Excited to have the chance to spar with someone. The thrill of the fight. The chance to be playful. He wouldn't hurt her. She trusted him not to. But she couldn't stop the feeling of anxiety creeping up the back of her neck. Or maybe that was the heat of his body so close to her own?

She fought back again, but it only earned her the reward of getting pressed tighter against the front of his body. He felt so solid against her. The sensation made her freeze up.

"Do you yield?" Adrien breathed in her ear. Her body shivered from head to toe at his voice.

Marinette couldn't find her voice. So she nodded slowly. Gulping down a lump in her throat. He released her instantly.

Marinette took a step forward and nearly feel to her knees on the bed. Her heart was pounding in her chest so hard that it almost hurt.

She hadn't been prepared to be that close. Her mind wasn't ready to feel a man's strength overpower her so easily. But he had never tried to hurt her. She knew they were only playing around.

Clutching her heart, she turned around slowly to face him. He had a dull smile on his face, but she couldn't help but notice the same rise and fall of his own chest – similar to hers.

She looked a bit scared. Maybe he shouldn't have been so rough with her. Adrien opened his mouth to apologize.

Marinette found her voice and spoke first.

"Teach me to fight like that."

Adrien took a step back as if she had struck him. He had not expected her to say that. Despite her hints of fear, she wasn't ready to give up yet. She wanted to learn.

"Marinette, I don't think it's wise for a woman to…"

"Think of it as payment for saving your life." She added smartly.

"Ha! Alright. Fair enough. " He agreed.

He couldn't argue with her logic. He could hear his professional trainers in his ear telling him how wrong it was to teach a woman to fight. Adrien didn't see much harm in it. Especially since she might have to defend herself one day.

He shook that thought away. No. He'd never let anything happen to her.

With the rain continuing to downpour outside, Adrien showed Marinette a few of the basics he'd learned when he first started being trained as a boy. Sword fighting was definitely not going to happen. But, he showed her how to properly throw a punch, be quick on her feet, and use a person's strength against them.

Marinette absorbed his lessons like a sponge. Every movement she made had determination and a willingness to learn. She asked questions and followed his movements.

For Adrien, it felt good to flex his fighting muscles and be on his feet again. Although, he was surprised how quickly he got winded. More than once, he had to sit down and take a break. He watched Marinette throw numerous punches at the air, and then ducking to either the left or the right – like she was fighting some invisible enemy. Her footwork was sloppy, but he wasn't going to nit-pick like his own trainers had done to him.

She noticed him watching her, and a shy smile crept across her lips. Her heart skipped several beats as she looked away and focused once more on throwing punches properly.

Although, Adrien's gaze didn't fall away so quickly. In fact, he stood up and went to stand close behind her. Coaching her with soft toned words of encouragement. His hands casually touching her shoulder and waist as he helped perfect her form. It was almost like a dance, the way she moved.

When she put her mind to it, she was naturally graceful. With that thought, throwing punches just didn't seem fitting for her anymore.

Adrian reached out and took hold of her wrist, stopping her instantly.

"Very good." He told her gently. "You're learning fast."

Marinette let him turn her around so they were now facing one another. She was staring at his chest, unsure if she could look up into his face. A part of her wasn't sure how she would react if she saw anything in his face that might give her a false sense of hope.

Adrien took a step towards her, and closed the gap separating their personal space. Marinette swallowed hard and stood frozen on her feet.

"I… uhh…" she practically whispered.

His fingers slid from her wrist and into her hand, and she found herself holding her breath. What was he doing?

"Do you dance?" he asked. Oh, his voice was downright dreamy.

To Adrien's surprise, she said, "Yes."

"Self taught?" he teased gently.

"My father." She replied.

Her mother and father would always dance together. Whether they swayed together outside in the moonlight, and Marinette would playfully spy on them from the doorway. Or they twirled together to the sound of her mother's soft singing and Marinette's gurgling laughter. Marinette remembered at a young age watching the two of them dance in this very room. When her mother needed a break, Marinette got to dance on his feet. When she was older, she got off his feet and danced with him.

Dancing was something she could do. For so long dancing was something simple, easy, and effortless because she was surrounded only by her family.

But to dance now, and with him. She found herself suddenly scared.

Adrien's hand found her waist, and that small movement snapped her head upward. Their eyes met and she let out a breath she was holding onto.

Adrien smiled at her. He could feel the tension in her body. He couldn't exactly read the emotion on her face. He contemplated pulling away from her. But, he really didn't want to. He wanted to see her dance.

Her other hand felt stupid just hanging at her side, so she gently placed it against his shoulder. Her feet finally moved and took their proper place in the first position.

His smile never faltered. In fact, it brightened just a bit when she finally held him. His gaze on her was comforting and his demeanor was inviting. So, when he took the first step, she easy went with him.

It took a few steps to take the edge off.

A few more to make Marinette finally relax against him.

A little dip to make her smile.

And a twirl to make her laugh.

After that, all was forgotten.

They now danced around the little room together. Feet tapping happily on the floorboards as they traveled back and forth across them. Marinette giggled when she danced. Her smile was infectious. And it was Adrien who found himself tripping over his own feet.

She danced like she heard music that he couldn't hear. Her feet moved faster than his. Dancing their own dance. She swayed with a natural grace that other women would envy.

Adrien wished for a larger room to dance with her. Too often they got hung up on a wall or nearly tripping over a table. But it made them both continue to laugh, as she happily twirled and spun to avoid colliding with the hearth or the bed. It made their dance silly and fun.

Adrien hummed music he had forgotten from his childhood. All the while dramatically posing and gesturing towards her. To which, Marinette gathered her patchwork skirt, curtseyed to him, swishing her skirts as she moved around him.

They laughed until both of their faces hurt. They danced together until Adrien was grabbing his side with a cramp and tapped out. Marinette sashayed away, still twirling and spinning in a delightful victory as she moved. He may have more upper body strength than her, but she had bested him in dancing.

Gods, Adrien realized, she was adorable.

* * *

Marinette awoke one early morning to what sounded like noises of painful grunts and moans. Followed by, what she could only make out as solid thwack sounds coming from outside.

She all but grew wings as she flew out of bed and down from the loft. His bed was empty, and her heart sunk into despair. In nothing but her bedshirt, she rushed outside searching for Adrien. In her frantic mind, he must have hurt himself or re-opened his wound or was in some kind of trouble.

Not finding him in the gardens, her panic level amplified by ten. She squeaked in worry and kept moving.

As she rounded the back of the house, she began calling out for him. She said his name twice, before she caught site of him and completely lost the ability to speak.

He had pants on, thank the Gods for that. But, his upper body was completely bare except for the thick coat of sweat that clung to his skin and hair. In the bright morning sun, his rippling muscles faintly glistened, as he stood beside the large pile of freshly cut firewood.

Axe in hand, he turned in the direction of the sound of his own name. Seeing her standing there made something in his lower stomach tighten. Her dark hair was sleep tousled and wild. Her enlarged nightshirt was barely hanging onto one slender shoulder by a prayer.

Marinette closed her open mouth, finding it dry from hanging open so long. She suddenly felt stupid. Stupid that she thought something had been so wrong. Stupid and awkward that she had panicked so easily. That feeling of awkwardness was slowly losing out to sheer embarrassment. And with that surprise embarrassment came as an outpouring of nonsense from her mouth.

"Firewood. Of course. Firewood. Chopping firewood. Yeah. Makes sense. Why wouldn't you be chopping firewood? I mean. That's exactly what you are doing. Just chopping firewood. So, you must be feeling better then? I take it? Well obviously, since you're out here. Chopping firewood…"

She watched his face twist awkwardly. And he turned his head away to look up straight up into the trees. Ever the gentleman, even though the site before him was enough to make him lick try lips.

"Mari…" he called to her like his voice was straining to find the right words. "Your… Your… clothes…"

Marinette cocked her head in question, narrowing her eyebrows in confusion. She glanced downward at herself, and felt her heart stop.

Adrien heard her cry out, and he tried his hardest to keep his eyes turned away. Something about the way she shrieked in sudden realization made him smile.

"Don't look!" she cried out, wrapping her arms around herself like it would help the situation.

"Trying not to." He called to her, his voice bordering on teasing.

"Oh!" she exclaimed wildly. She grabbed the shirt, hugging it around her body and ran for the house. Never mind the fact that hugging the garment so close to her body only accentuated her curves more for him to see even as she ran away and back into the house.

When her footsteps were gone, Adrien lowered his eyes and let out a breath he had been holding. He bent over the axe and hung his head trying to remember how to properly breathe. And, you know, get the blood flowing back to the proper places.

When Adrien came back from the woodpile, he saw Marinette out in the garden. Fully clothed, and even her large straw hat covering her head. She didn't even raise her head and her arms looked buried up to her elbows in the dirt.

She needed her space. He would respect that. Hell, it had been quite an ordeal for him as well. He'd be lying to himself if he did not have the image still firmly imprinted in his mind. The way she had reacted was what made it so delightful.

He wondered how long it would take for her to talk to him again.

To his surprise, it wasn't very long. Because just a short time later, she came back into the house dragging an enormous bag of potatoes behind her like it weighed more than she did.

Adrien jumped up to help her. But she quite literally shooed him away with her hat as she dumped the bag on the floor with a huff of exhaustion. Her fingers, hands and arms were black from digging in the rich soil.

"So, potatoes for dinner, I take it?" Adrien tried to make a friendly joke.

In between labored breaths, she shot him a look that made him want to eat his words instead of the potatoes.

Putting her hands on her hips, she surveyed her work. Too much. Definitely too much. This could probably feed a small army. Ugh, she had gone overboard.

Well, now was about as good of a time as any.

"How do you feel about taking these to the village tomorrow?"

Adrien wasn't going to lie to himself, his heart skipped about two beats as soon as the words left her lips. Once her parents saw them together, the secret would be out. He'd have to explain himself and how he came to be with her like this. Would her family tear him limb from limb to protect their daughter? Gods, he did not know what to expect.

Marinette seemed to come back to herself slowly. She started to realize just how selfish she had sounded.

"I'm sorry. I meant to ask, if you wouldn't mind, do you think you could help me take some things to the village? Only if you feel up to it… I was going to go anyway. I've had such a good harvest. And I could certainly use the help. If you… want to go?"

Adrien couldn't say no to her. He swallowed the lump down in his throat. He knew this day would come. He was just surprised by the suddenness of it. But, if he was going to convince anyone of his willingness to keep her secret, he might as well start with her parents. He had no idea what to expect. But he'd be damned if he chickened out.

"Of course, Marinette. Happy to help."

* * *

They were up before dawn. Adrien tried his best to stay out of Marinette's way as she rushed around the house getting things together. He was, after all, just a pack mule on this adventure.

She put not only potatoes, but cabbages, dried herbs, corn, wheat, and numerous other things into clean cloths and canvas bags. Tying them tight, and then securing them with letter thongs into a backpack-like device. Other more delicate items, she heaped into baskets. He watched her buzz around until he realized she was just as nervous as he was.

Standing up, he went to her side and gently touched her arm. The action stopped her mid stride and she turned to look up at him. His green eyes were soft as he spoke to her.

"Breathe, Mari. You're overdoing yourself."

With his words, she felt her shoulders de-tense and she allowed herself to take in a deep breath and let it out slowly.

"Thank you." She replied. "Sometimes, I just get so caught up in things. I forget to do that."

She flashed him a weak smile. "Are you sure you are up for this trip?"

"Yes. Do not worry."

"Well, if you need to stop and rest, just tell me. And we will stop."

"It will be good for me. I need to keep pushing myself more and more. You've done wonders for me. So this is the least I can do to help you."

Marinette chewed on her bottom lip at the compliment. "I… uhh, you're welcome. I mean, no need to thank me. I… umm… let me go… freshen up… a bit."

She scurried away from him, feeling his eyes on her as she went out to the well. The cold water cleared her mind a bit as she splashed it on her face. Running her fingers through her hair, she wondered how she looked. Not that it mattered. But she was suddenly self-conscious.

Everything is going to be okay. She kept telling herself. It's just a quick trip. We will be back before dark. Nothing to worry about.

But then, why wouldn't her heart stop racing?

It took a few attempts, but Adrien finally convinced Marinette to let him carry the heavier bags and baskets.

He may have pretended to collapse under the weight once. Okay, maybe twice. But it was hilarious to watch her panic, and then subsequently get a solid punch in the arm at his acting skills.

When they finally set out, Adrien let Marinette lead the way. They walked along a narrow, and partially overgrown footpath through the trees. Marinette apologized profusely that she had not cleared it better before they started. Adrien kept assuring her it was fine, even as he climbed over a large fallen tree trunk.

They walked in silence for a while, listening to the morning birds sing and wake up the rest of the world. Adrien picked his way through the underbrush, following Marinette's wide straw hat in front of him. She had offered to make him one before the trip. But he had pointed to his own straw colored hair and said he already had one. She laughed and offered to let him borrow hers. He proceeded to pop it onto his head and strut around the yard in it. Which earned him a furry of giggles from Marinette.

The small footpath eventually led to a simple road. The road was only lightly used, but there were distinct wagon wheel ruts in the hard soil and the underbrush was completely cleared away.

"This way." Marinette called, as they turned left and followed the road.

Adrien swallowed his pulse over and over again. His nerves were about to get the better of him. If this village protected Marinette her whole life, what would they do when they saw him with her? Probably skin him alive. But, then again, they never told her about her blue eyes. He was hoping they wouldn't break their secrecy just because of him. The thought still ranked his mind with nerves.

They walked side by side now. The road was much easier to walk than the footpath.

"Is that too heavy? Do you need me to carry it for awhile?" Marinette offered, breaking the silence between them.

Adrien swallowed first before speaking, to try and mask his nerves. "My shoulders and back went totally numb a while ago from the weight, so I'm fine now." He tried to keep his voice deadpan to see if she would freak out.

Marinette smirked at his comment. He was so ridiculous. "Oh, okay. Well, don't complain too much."

"I won't."

Marinette chuckled to herself. Covering her hand with her mouth to conceal it, but it kept bubbling over.

"What's so funny?" he asked her.

Through her giggles, she glanced at him and wrinkled her nose. "So piggyback rides are out of the question, then?"

Adrien smiled brightly. "Do you need a piggyback ride, Marinette?" he joked.

Marinette giggled again. "Maybe on the way back."

"Alright. But only if I get one too." He purred.

"Deal."

They both chuckled together and continued to walk down the road through the forest. Marinette hummed while they walked. Adrien matched her humming with a whistle as they walked side by side.

Adrien stopped whistling when he heard the sound of the approaching wagon. He couldn't see it yet. However, that didn't change the fact that he wanted to go hide in the trees and wait for it to pass them by. Glancing at Marinette for a response, she didn't seem worried at all. Especially when she too heard the wagon and turned towards the sound.

"Oh, it's Mr. Armond." She exclaimed happily.

Adrien let out a breath he was holding in and unclenched his fists. She knew him. Thank the Gods.

Marinette began waving her arms above her head. Well, there was certainly no hiding now.

As the rickety wagon got closer, Adrien felt eyes lock on him. Unfriendly and concerned eyes that surveyed him like a buzzard. The man was older, his long greying beard giving away his age.

"Mr. Armond!" Marinette greeted him warmly, unaware of the friction forming between him and Adrien.

Adrien wondered how good of an actor Mr. Armond was. He was either going to play the part, or risk giving off the illusion.

When he finally spoke, his voice was calm and etched with laughter. Almost sounding too jovial to be real. The façade was caked on thick.

"Why, mis' Marinette. Headin' for the ol' village ain't cha?"

Marinette nodded enthusiastically. "Good to see you Sir."

"Don't usually see yous makin' the trip this time of year. You alright then?"

"I wanted to bring some vegetables to my parents. They've been growing really well this year."

The old man flashed her a smile. "Well thank ye miss. That's awful nice."

"Who's this then?" the man remarked, staring daggers at Adrien despite his happy tone.

"Oh!" Marinette exclaimed, suddenly feeling rude for not introducing him.

"Umm… This is Adrien. He is… erm… he's my…" She stumbled over her words. Not quite sure who Adrien was to her. She didn't want to jump to any unnecessary conclusion. But she could find the right word to describe their relationship.

To her surprise, he jumped in and answered.

"A friend." Adrien called. His voice was sincere and without hesitation. "A very good friend." He hoped that his choice of words was enough to persuade the man that he meant Marinette no harm.

The old man surveyed Adrien from head to toe, like he was trying to find his weak points. He never dropped the illusion but for now, he let it go. Especially while Marinette was present.

"I see. Well, I suppose you kids are gonna be wantin' a ride, yes? I can deliver you up to Tom and Sabine."

"That would be wonderful. Thank you so much." Marinette cooed happily. Not that she was minding the walk alone with Adrien. But a free ride was always welcome.

"We appreciate your offer." Adrien politely spoke to Mr. Armond. The man sucked on his top lip, exposing his bottom teeth almost like a sneer. He nodded his head behind him.

"Toss yer stuff in the back there."

Without moving his head, Mr. Armond's eyes stayed locked on Adrien as much as he could until they both disappeared behind the wagon.

Adrien and Marinette both unloaded their bags and began to secure everything down. Mr. Armond called from over his shoulder.

"Only 'nuf room up front fer one more. You good in the back, boy?"

Marinette spoke up, "I'll ride in the ba—"

Adrien cut her off. "I'll be fine back here. Go ahead up front."

Marinette looked at him. "But… I…"

Adrien touched her arm gently. "I'm perfectly comfortable back here. Don't worry."

"Are you sure? I really don't…"

"Show's a leavin'." Mr. Armond called to them.

Adrien didn't say another word, but began to climb into the back of the wagon. He got himself situated quickly and turned around to face Marinette who was still standing there.

"Beats walking, am I right?" Adrien smiled to her.

Marinette returned his smile and nodded her head in agreement. She slowlywalked around to the front of the wagon and Mr. Armond extended a wrinkled hand to help her up. Sitting next to him now, she glanced over her shoulder at Adrien in the back of the wagon. She felt bad, he would be more comfortable up front.

Adrien smiled and waved up at her. He then sighed contently, stretching out his legs, put his hands behind his head and closing his eyes, making Marinette laugh.

The wagon started to move. Adrien wasn't about to cause a stir with the very first villager they encountered. He would really have to play this entire day close to his chest if he wanted to make it out of here alive. Because, if looks could kill, Mr. Armond wasn't kidding around.

The scary thing was. He hadn't even met her parents yet.

* * *

A/N: Hi everyone! I hope you all are doing great! Again, I'm so sorry to the chapter delay. I think the reason why I'm not working on this story as much as my others is because... well, it's kind of a sad little tale. I have to be in the right mood to add to it. It's currently in pieces. And, honestly, looking at the later content, I'm surprised how dark it keeps getting. Anywho, thank you all for your patience. Please review and say Hi :)


	7. Chapter 7

\- Chapter 7 -

Adrien could start to smell the cook fires long before the wagon finally cleared the large trees. The forest did not so much as end, as only a large clearing had been cut in it to allow for the village to pop up. The wagon wheels crunched under the sticks and brush that carpeted the ground. All of the homes were timber and looked old, but beautifully solid.

It was a small village, with maybe about twenty homes clustered together. Small gardens and pastures broke up the space between the properties. Along with corrals of sheep, pigs and goats that lazily chewed on the plentiful grasses. Although a few did lift their heads in question as the wagon passed them by. Very few horses could be seen. In fact, Mr. Armond's old mare was the only horse Adrien noticed in the whole town.

It made sense. Horses were expensive. This village clearly survived in its ability to remain remote and live quietly off the land.

However, there were young children running in-between the homes shouting and screaming the way kids do when they play. Even though the village was indeed in what Adrien could recognize as near poverty, the air felt peaceful. He could feel the coziness and freedom surrounding the little community. No one had anything more or less than his or her neighbors. So everyone lived as equals.

As they passed the small homes, people waved at Marinette who called greetings and waved back. Nobody took notice of Adrien in the back of the wagon – at least, not yet.

He loved hearing Marinette's voice sound so happy. And everyone sounded delighted to see her. She was a joy to be around, and had an obvious harmonious effect on people. That was plain to see. But, he knew that already.

The wagon slowed to a stop and Adrien cautiously popped his head up.

"We're here." Marinette called as she dropped down from her seat next to Mr. Armond.

Adrien slowly crawled his way out of the wagon, trying not to glance around wildly for sites of any angry mobs with torches and pitchforks. He could not calm his heart from hammering in his chest. He could feel multiple sets of eyes glaring at him.

Swallowing his pulse, he tried his best to ignore them and focus on unloading the wagon. He helped Marinette unload the items they brought and followed her lead on setting them against the side of a small house – that, he presumed, was her parent's.

Together, they started walking back over to Mr. Armond who had not left his seat in the wagon the whole time. Another woman was now standing beside the wagon. She was wringing her hands and kept glancing from Adrien, to the ground and then back again. Mr. Armond was shaking his head slowly, but deliberately. They were speaking, but Adrien couldn't hear what they were saying.

As they approached, Marinette jumped ahead of him and sweetly thanked Mr. Armond again for the ride. Adrien echoed her words with his own. He kept his thanks very formal, and smiled pleasantly at the worried woman. However, despite his pleasantries, she let out a faint gasp and took a step away as if afraid of him.

Marinette did not notice the woman's reaction, because Adrien felt her hand under his arm as she anxiously led him towards the door of the house. Clearly she was eager and excited to see her parents.

Before he could be pulled away. Adrien very slowly mouthed the words: 'It's okay'. And poured as much compassion and care into his eyes towards the woman. The worried lines on her face softened slightly, but not enough to give off the impression that she believed him.

Marinette released her grip on his arm as she bounched up the wooden steps to the front door. With Adrien was just a step or two behind her, with lingering due to the feeling of hot eyes burning into his back.

"Ma'man? Papa?" Marinette called happily, opening the unlocked door and letting herself in to the small room.

From his position behind her, he couldn't see into the room just yet. However, delightful, mouth-watering smells poured from the home. There was a pause, but very quickly a voice could be heard from just inside.

"Marinette?" a female voice called out in slight surprise.

The woman's name was Sabine. She was dark haired and petite, much like her daughter. She stood up quickly, letting her sewing drop to the floor, a bit shocked to see her daughter standing there. She was not supposed to be here. Not in such good weather and the off-chance of strangers being in the village.

Upon hearing her voice, Marinette's father wasn't far behind as he entered into the room. Although his physique was nothing like his wife's: tall, incredibly broad shouldered and intimidating to say the least.

"Sweetheart! What a surprise!" he called happily upon seeing his beloved daughter. He took a few lumbering steps forward to scoop her up into a giant hug, that lifted her completely up off the ground. He swung her happily in his hug. Despite the danger of her presence, he could not stop being a loving Father at the site of his only daughter.

Mid-hug, his eyes froze upon the young man standing just behind her.

You could cut the tension with a knife when Adrien walked fully through the doorway and into the space. Sabine moved closer to stand beside her husband. Her eyes narrowed in Adrien's direction, but she kept smiling.

"And who might you be?" Her Father asked, setting his daughter back down on her feet. His voice was not pleasant.

Adrien straightened up at the question. His back was stiff and formal.

"Adrien, sir."

Sabine scooted around her husband to give Marinette her own hug. Although, she very distinctly turned and blocked Marinette from Adrien using her own body. Marinette was sandwiched safely between her two parents, and Adrien had nowhere to go.

"Adrien, no last name?" he asked darkly.

Adrien straightened up even more, like he was saluting him. He would not lie. Lying would not help this situation. "Agreste. Adrien Agreste… Sir."

Her Father continued to glare at him. Adrien swallowed hard on a dry throat as the tension between them was building to an obvious boiling point. If something didn't get said soon, he wasn't sure what would happen. But it would be painful.

"Never heard of you before." He scowled at the young man. His balled his fingers into fists, and Adrien took a step backwards.

Thankfully, Marinette jumped in to try and defuse the situation. "Papa! Stop. A-Adrien, h-he's my friend." She echoed Adrien's own words from before. Friend sounded like a weak description, but she would go with it for now.

"Friend?" Tom's voice didn't sound convinced.

Sabine saw the way her husband was reacting, and, to Adrien's surprise, also jumped in to convince her husband. Although, she still kept Marinette away from him as much as the small space would allow.

"Let the boy breathe, honey. I'm sure he has a perfectly logical reason for being here. Don't you, dear?"

Her voice was pleasant enough, but her eyes were concerned, almost frightened when she spoke. She spoke each word like she was begging him to play along. Hoping that her olive branch would be enough to convince him to keep the lie going.

Adrien was frozen stiff. His brain couldn't function properly. He had to convince them that he wasn't going to break their secret. But he couldn't find the words to explain himself without Marinette finding out something that she obviously wasn't supposed to know.

"I… erm…"

Tom took a step towards him, a very large step, and Adrien began to panic. Oh, he was doomed. So doomed. He should have stayed behind. No. No, that would have been cowardly and completely inappropriate. He had to find his nerve. This was a Father protecting his daughter. Not only that, but a girl who carried with her the most highly coveted feature in the history of the world.

He had expected this kind of reaction. He was prepared to get punched or… or worse. But he had to convince them that he was not here to harm her. Convince being the choice word. Because if he couldn't convince her parents of his good nature, then, well… at least he had a good life. Short, but good.

Right now, it was better not to lie. The truth would either be a disaster or set him free.

Calmly, he spoke each word with integrity.

"I'm a soldier for the Opposition, sir. I was gravely injured and stumbled, by complete chance, into Marinette's care."

He watched Tom's shoulders relax slightly and his body begin deflate. He kept talking, hoping to make his point very clear.

"Marinette saved me from death and brought me back to health." Slowly, he raised his shirt and briefly flashed the horrible fresh scaring wound on his side. When Tom's eyes noticed the wound, they softened. His fingers unclenched from their tight fists.

Tom didn't look angry anymore. In fact, he looked a bit defeated. Like he knew just how believable it was for Marinette to care about a total stranger like this. It was their downfall for not telling their daughter about what she possessed. Because now she had no real fear of strangers. No guard to protect herself.

"I owe her my life for saving me." Adrien finished strongly. Glancing at Marinette when he said those last few words.

Marinette felt herself blush.

"Is this true, Marinette?" Sabine asked in a soft voice.

Marinette nodded. "Yes, ma'ma." Her shy gaze managed to catch Adrien's and she couldn't help but smile slightly at the compliments he had said. She felt her crush deepen a bit.

"Well… I suppose that settles that mystery." Sabine huffed, even though her voice still sounded a bit sad.

Adrien knew they weren't completely convinced. If he had been speaking alone with them, he could make a stronger case for himself. But with Marinette standing right there, they all had to maintain the lie.

Sabine patted Marinette's hand. "Come help me fix something to eat for all of us. I'm sure you both are hungry from your trip." Turning toward Adrien, she smiled at him sweetly. "I hope she's been feeding you things other than corn and potatoes?"

Adrien returned her smile with one of his own. He hoped he wasn't overstepping his manners with a joke, but he couldn't help himself. "Actually, I haven't eaten in weeks." He said slyly. Glancing towards Marinette, he gave her a devilish smirk.

Marinette's lips formed a little 'o' in surprise. She shook her finger at him and exclaimed. "Mama, don't listen to a word he says. I have absolutely been feeding him!"

Adrien felt a playful elbow in his ribs. He looked up to see Tom smirking at him. Out of the corner of his mouth, he teased whispered playfully, "I don't blame you. I wouldn't eat my daughter's cooking either."

"Papa!" Marinette exclaimed.

Tom and Adrien shared a laugh. And it actually sounded pretty normal leaving his lips.

"How does some savory pork stew sound, then?" Sabine asked Adrien, her voice playful.

Adrien's mouth actually watered at the mention of food. "Music to my taste buds. Marinette never makes stew."

"I absolutely do make stew!" Marinette countered. But no one seemed to listen to her pleas.

"Of course you do, dear." Sabine told her sweetly, patting her hand once again.

Adrien threw his head back with laughter at how much her family was playing along with his little joke. Teasing Marinette seemed to run in the family.

"Wait til you taste my wife's stew." Tom told him warmly. "Best you've ever had."

Adrien smiled and thanked the both of them. All the while glancing at Marinette, who looked delightfully irritated with everyone ganging up on her, but she couldn't help the smile on her lips.

The group disbanded just enough for everyone to take on a different role. The girls headed for the hearth to begin preparing the meal. Tom excused himself to go outside for a moment. Adrien wondered if it was to disband the angry mob of the villagers from ready to skin him alive should things have gone awry. Adrien was left asking the girls if he could help, but in traditional fashion, he was shooed out of the kitchen and told to relax. This time, he didn't argue, and took a seat on a nearby wooden chair. Which allowed for all of them to casually talk while they worked on the meal. Which, as it turns out, had already been simmering in the kettle, slow cooking since early this morning. Adrien remembered smelling it when the door first opened, but had been distracted from appreciating it. Now, he sat comfortably and enjoyed the company of Marinette's family.

Tom returned and took a seat next to Adrien. The two of them talked about "manly" things and made jokes as the girls worked. The small space made having any more private conversations nearly impossible. But both Tom and Sabine seemed to have some degree of trust with Adrien. Parental intuition at its finest.

The gesture softened the mood and they all began opening up with more small talk. Even through the canned replies, Adrien came to realize that these were nice people. It made sense, considering the type of person Marinette was and now discovering who she was raised by.

As they ate, they talked together pleasantly. Even laughing at times. It had been casual small talk at first, but it gradually turned to more meaningful conversation. Eventually, the tension lessened and even Tom and Sabine relaxed. The young man was ever the gentleman around their daughter. Even as Adrien had sat across the room from Marinette, he would often catch her gaze while others talked. Making both of them smile shyly.

The sound of galloping horses hooves stopped their conversation mid word. A shout rang out from the street outside, as the sounds grew closer and closer. Finally stopping just past the house.

Tom and Adrien were on their feet in an instant, both running to the door and opening it just enough to poke both of their heads outside and look down the street.

From their vantage point, it seemed that is was only a small group of riders. All dressed similarly, but not showcasing any banners or colors that Adrien could see from this distance.

From the way Tom was reacting, strangers visiting were certainly not commonplace. He could hear the man huffing under his breath. He could only imagine what the man was thinking.

Adrien's brain was buzzing with concerns and questions. Who were they? What were they doing here? How did they find this village? Were they just passing through? Had they come looking for him? How had they found him?

Tom and Adrien exchanged a look. Of course, none of that mattered right now. What mattered was getting them the hell out of here. And keeping them from seeing Marinette. That was priority number one.

Other villagers were already in the street talking with the riders. One of them pointed towards the nearby well. It was obvious they were asking for water for themselves and their horses. The villagers nodded their heads.

Good, Adrien thought, let them get their water and be gone.

"What is it, dear?" Sabine called, her voice worried.

Tom and Adrien turned back towards the girls. They briefly exchanged another look with each other before Tom answered his wife.

"Just riders stopping for water." He said calmly. Adrien was surprised at just how calm he was being in this situation. Perhaps this had happened before? Oh wait, yeah it had. With him, not just a few hours ago.

Oh if this had anything to do with him, Adrien was certain Tom and Sabine would never trust him. He would be out of Marinette's life faster than he could blink. He might as well go dig his own grave in the backyard.

Adrien turned back to glare at the riders. A few had dismounted and were drawing water from the well. He squinted his eyes to get a better look at their clothing. It made his stomach drop to his feet when he noticed a distinct patch on the shoulder of their shirts. Scouts. Yes, 100%. These were army Scouts.

Gods, if they were here for him. If he had somehow led them here. No, he could not jump to those kinds of conclusions. But he knew that he had to deal with it himself. He had to draw any attention away from Marinette and keep the lie going.

Tom sharply bumped his shoulder and drew his attention back to him.

In a hushed, seriously low voice he hissed to him. "Get them out of here. _Now_."

That was all that needed to be said for Adrien to understand what he meant.

They tucked their heads back into the house and Tom flashed a smile at his family. "Just watering their horses. They'll be gone after a while." He sat back down and picked up his bowl to start eating again; ever the actor playing his role closely as to not alarm his daughter.

He glanced sideways at Adrien, as if to spur him along.

Right. He had to role to play in this as well. He straightened his shoulders and put his hand on the door to leave.

"Adrien?" Marinette called as she walked towards him. "Where are you going?"

Adrien stared past her to glance at Tom and Sabine. Both of them had the same look on their faces. 'Keep her here', it said. 'Keep her safe.'

Staring back into her face, he felt a piece of himself get lost in the fear of the moment. How did it come to be like this? The day was not supposed to go this way. And yet, here they were. He had to get these Scouts away from the village. But he had to do it carefully in order to protect the lie keeping her safe.

Quickly, he flashed a fake smile and put his hand gently on her shoulder. "It's okay." He assured her, even though it wasn't okay at all. But he had to fake it. It would be okay again once they were gone. Everything would go back to normal. And he wouldn't have to see this pain gathering in her expressive eyes.

"I think I know them… I'm just going to go chat with them real quick. Stay here, and visit with your parents, okay?"

Her face flashed signs of worry and concern, like she didn't believe him. Little did he know, she just did not want to see him go. It felt like he was somehow saying goodbye. This was slowly unraveling their time together and she wasn't ready for him to be gone so quicly.

To which, he patted her shoulder in reassurance, and the simple gesture pulled her from her own mind.

"I'll be right back." He promised her. Pouring every once of comfort into his voice. "Promise."

Slowly, she smiled weakly and nodded her head in understanding. He slipped through the door and made sure it closed tightly behind him.

Adrien approached the group of men. They were lightly armed and wearing simple riding clothes. No heavy armor. Just enough provisions to keep them out riding easily for many days. Obviously just humble Scouts out surveying the surrounding area.

His eyes searching for the highest-ranking member among them. He breathed a sigh of relief when the crest they wore was of an Opposition allied House. They weren't his men, but he knew whom they reported to.

He greeted the men officially, and most of them snapped to attention at his presence. A few did nothing and seemed not to care or show Adrien any kind of respect despite the official words he spoke. Adrien wasn't dressed in his armor, so he had nothing to further elicit a response from these men.

He loudly spoke up and asked for their report, but the uncaring individuals blew him off with a few inappropriate words. This instantly annoyed him. Most of the Opposition's older soldiers never officially warmed up to Adrien because of his age. These men were only Scouts, and Adrien outranked them greatly. He just had to prove it.

Against his better judgment, Adrien decided to pull rank and flex his title – perhaps that would straighten them out. As soon as he sounded off his name and title, the relationship spun instantly in his favor.

If he didn't have their attention before, he had it now. It opened the floodgates of apologies and formalities. Adrien quickly forgave their earlier rudeness so that they didn't draw any further attention to themselves as they all but groveled at his feet.

"Agreste? Of the House of Agreste?" One of them gulped in surprise.

"Yes. Now, your report?"

Between the collective group of them Adrien was able to piece together their scouting report. They were alone. Not far from an Opposition outpost at the edge of the forest. The forest had taken them days to navigate through. And, from what they described, the forest "creeped them out". So they had no desire to travel any deeper. It had been by sheer luck that they found the little road that led them to this village. In fact, if they hadn't discovered the village, they would have turned around and gone back.

Adrien also learned that the battle at the medical camp had been a terrible defeat, but that was painstakingly obvious from what he remembered. However, the good news was that the False Prince's army had not advanced into the territory. It had been a simple ambush mission – they had no intention of pushing into that vast and dense forest that Adrien had escaped into. In fact, they had actually retreated back quite a distance. Truthfully, neither army could spend the time or resources trying to navigate that forest.

Although the Opposition was clearly trying to do so. Otherwise these Scouts would not be out here.

This tiny village was the first human contact that they had seen in several days. From what Adrien gathered, they had nothing of particular importance to report back to the other officials about it. Well, nothing to report now… except for him.

* * *

Marinette watched the scene from a crack between the wooden planks of the house. She used to do this as a child when her Father wouldn't let her out of the house for one reason or another. In fact, most of her childhood was spent peering through this crack. Only catching glimpses of the world outside as it rushed by.

The thought irked her slightly. She wasn't a child anymore. She didn't need to hide in the house. Besides, she really wanted to go meet Adrien's fellow soldiers and hear what they were saying. It might be really fascinating. She could only imagine what kinds of stories these soldiers had.

Smoothing her skirt down, and pushing any stray hairs behind her ears, she started towards the front door.

Calling over her shoulder, she said. "I'm going to go say Hi to…"

With her hand on the door latch, her Father suddenly tightly grabbed her arm and held her back.

Sabine hurried past them both and blocked the door with her body.

"It's best if you stay here." She said softly, a bit out of breath for moving so fast to block her daughter's path.

Marinette glanced wildly from her father's tight grip on her arm, to her mother blocking the door.

"What's wrong with going out there?" She demanded.

"Let Adrien deal with this on his own, honey. It's wise if you did not interfere." Sabine replied.

"I'm not going to interfere. I just want to meet…" Marinete huffed. Getting annoyed quickly.

"Marinette…" her mother started to say, her voice pleading.

Tom interjected. "Sweetheart, Adrien may not want you to hear his conversation with these men. Please. Think about what his duties and responsibilities are to the Opposition. This may be important for him to handle. "

Marinette tried to pull her arm away from her Father's grip, but he wasn't letting go just yet. The act was making her anger grow.

If these men were soldiers, like Adrien, then surely everything was fine? Especially since Adrien was there. He was an officer, after all. Well, officer-in-training. But that had to mean something.

But her gathering anger made her recall the conversations that the two of them had regarding the Copy King's War. He had warned her about the un-pleasantries of War. Perhaps he was just trying to protect her? Were soldiers that unpleasant?

She huffed and pulled her arm away more firmly. This time, her Father let her go. She went back to staring through the wood panels and secretly hoping that everything would turn out okay. He would come back. He promised, after all.

* * *

Adrien pulled one of the Scouts away from the group so they could talk in private.

"Tell me of my comrades, Kim, Nino, Plagg. Did they survive the battle at the medical camp?"

The Scout nodded his head. "Y-Yes sir. All well and good. They are all at the outpost about a week's ride from here."

Adrien felt his conscious ease at those words. All alive. Thank the Gods.

"They've been looking for you, sir. Many thought you dead." He added.

Adrien was both hurt and shamed by those words. He felt like a fool for making them worry about him. Especially hearing that they had been actively looking for him. He got flashes of the last battle they shared together in his mind. He owed it to them to return. Especially to Plagg.

He pulled himself out of his own head. "You'll send report to my men that I'm here. Correct?"

"Of course, my lord." The Scout replied.

When Adrien returned back to the house, his stew was left cold and forgotten. But he lacked any appetite to finish it, even though it had been absolutely delicious. However, he repeatedly thanked Sabine and Tom for their hospitality and complimented Sabine on her cooking. Sabine promised to cook for him again. It was heartwarming to hear her say that. Perhaps he hadn't messed up so bad after all.

It was hard to maintain a happy heart when his mind was spinning with preparations. Plenty of 'what-if' scenarios that needed to be played out now.

His men would come for him. And he would leave. In that moment, he had made his decision. He still had a bit of time before they arrived. He hoped it was enough time to say goodbye.

He was rather listless as the family chatted around him. He really wasn't listening to their conversations. He could hear the horses nickering outside. They must be getting ready to leave soon because the horses were anxious to ride. Although his ears were eagerly listening for the sound of the horses hooves to indicate that the Scouts had left. Only then could he possibly relax.

A soft hand on his arm made him look up. His gaze was met with Marinette's lovely face and, in that wonderful moment, he suddenly forgot all of his troubles.

"W-We should go soon. So we can get back… before dark." She wasn't sure why her voice was shaking.

They weren't leaving before those Scouts had a good head start on them. Even if it meant spending the night in the village. Come to think of it, why hadn't he thought of that before?

In the moment, Adrien took her hand in his. "Of course…" He rubbed her knuckles with his thumb. "Mari, do you... I mean, it might be more proper for me to… stay here, in the village?"

She swallowed hard. "It's up to you." She answered plainly. Truthfully, it probably was more proper.

Adrien dropped her hand before he spoke again. A wiser man would have stayed in the village and wait for his men to come for him. However, in this tender moment, he was not listening to his head. He wasn't ready to say goodbye to her. God help him, he wasn't sure if he'd ever be ready.

"I'd really prefer to go back with you. If that's alright…?"

"Of course!" she exclaimed in a voice that bordered on squealing. Catching herself, she cleared her throat in an attempt to calm down. "I mean, umm… yes. You are more than welcome to stay… with me."

Adrien smiled, letting his tone of voice shift into a joke. "Only if you promise to make me your stew."

Marinette chuckled. "It won't be as good as mama's, but I'll see what I can do."

Unexpectedly and without warning, there was a short knock, and then the house's front door abruptly opened without any manners or patience to be let inside. One of the scouts entered the room, his eyes searching the people in the room looking for Adrien.

"My lord, one more thing I…"

Adrien didn't think he could ever move as fast as he did just then. He was across the room in a blink of an eye, and violently shoved the man out the door so hard that it sent him tumbling into the dirt outside.

Adrien stood physically panting and shaking as he blocking the doorway with his body. He silently prayed to all the Gods that the man hadn't seen Marinette standing there with him. Or, at least, had not seen her eyes. With every fiber of his being he would not let anything happen to her. His heart felt hot in his chest and his stomach was knotted with anxiety.

The man lay on the ground staring at up at Adrien like he was insane. If looks could kill, then the man was already dead Slowly, he picked himself up and dusted himself off. Cautiously eyeing Adrien like he wasn't sure what he would do next.

"My apologies for the interruption, my lord."

Adrien only nodded his head. Slowly. Methodically. He searched the man's face for any signs of excitement or shock. He was trying to read any unwanted expression to gauge if he had seen anything he shouldn't have seen. Anything at all that would put Marinette in danger.

"You have your orders. Now. **Go**." Adrien told him. The last words leaving his mouth bitterly.

He watched the Scout retreat away and join his comrades. He mounted his horse and the group gave a shout before urging their horses forward. They rode from the village, leaving nothing behind but a heavy dust cloud.

Adrien's allowed himself to breathe as he watched them disappear. And hopefully never come back.

Tom came to stand close to him. Their bodies practically touching. Intimidatingly close.

"Are they gone for good?" he asked Adrien.

"Yes, sir." Adrien told him, as they both watched the cloud of dust from the horses hooves dissipate into the air.

"Are you going back with her tonight?" he asked.

"With your permission, I intend to."

There was a pause and he knew Tom was weighing out his options. But there were just too many options to weight now.

"Go then. Make sure she stays out there." He answered darkly.

Adrien felt his stomach twist. The man hated him now. There was nothing he could do to change that. He didn't want to lie to Tom, so he didn't.

"I've sent word for my men to come find me."

He felt Tom nod, so he continued. "They are good men. Honorable men. Trustworthy."

"If you say so." Tom said dryly. Adrien couldn't blame him for not believing him.

With that thought, he stood up a little straighter before saying. "When they come for me. I'll leave. I'll leave forever. You don't have to worry."

The pair stayed quiet for a long moment. Both staring off into the distance in the direction the riders had gone. Nothing left except hoof prints to ever indicate they were even there.

"Good." Tom replied.

* * *

Dusk was settling in and the crickets were starting their evening songs when the two of them finally returned to Marinette's little house. The journey back had been quieter than on the way there. Less jokes, more intimate and personal conversations.

Adrien had let himself easily slip back into the comfort of her presence as they walked together. With almost nothing to carry except empty bags, the journey was easy going. But they both purposely dragged their feet. Letting the walk linger for as long as possible so they could keep talking.

Marinette felt that the visit had gone well. Well enough, she supposed. She knew her father was going to be protective of her. It could have gone worse. And she was rather delighted at how Adrien handled himself. Despite the tense situation that came with those visiting soldiers – something that Marinette was itching to talk with him about. However, when she brought it up, he answered her question simply and did not talk any more on the subject. So she decided not to push her luck. It wasn't that important anyway. They were gone, and he was still here. All was well.

Soon after they arrived home, Marinette excused herself to go freshen up before bed. And that left Adrien to start the fire and warm the house during their absence.

As he stacked dry kindling in the hearth, he seemed to be on autopilot as he moved. His mind was full. Mostly because he knew he had to tell her he was leaving. The question was: when? He may have a week, maybe two, before his men would come looking for him. The exact time was not certain.

Their was no doubt in his mind that if Kim, Nino and Plagg met Marinette that they would keep her secret. He trusted them completely. Nino and Kim would do anything Adrien asked because they had been friends since they were kids. Plagg would scrutinize him, but his word was his honor.

Of the three, Plagg was the one who Adrien would have the hardest time facing again after so much time had past. The man was his mentor and trainer. He was rough around the edges and seemed to pop in and out of Adrien's life whenever it suited him. However, Plagg had been consistently at his side since before he could remember. Throughout his youth, he remembered seeing him at the oddest and most random moments, either sitting or leaning somewhere in the shadows like a patient guardian.

Plagg had a kind of aura about him that made most people cringe away. He rarely smiled. And his physical demeanor was unsettling. But no one dared to cross him. He would certainly be the angriest that Adrien hadn't contacted them sooner. And, for that, Adrien felt horrible.

Adrien watched as the tiny flame caught the dry wood and grew in size. The burst of heat hitting his face like a wall. Adrien stood up and watched the fire burn in the hearth. His mind was filled with unhappy thoughts. He thought back to the events that had happened today in the village. Everything that was said, and the events that were now put into motion.

Mostly, he thought about how few nights he had left to share with Marinette. At some point, he knew it couldn't last forever. That thought made his chest feel tight.

These past short months had been the best time of his life. This was the life he had always wanted. The life he always wished for. A peaceful and secluded home tucked away from the world. Living off the land. Everything one could ever need to be happy. Surrounded by someone who he wished to have in his life.

As if his wanting heart had summoned her, he heard her walk into the room from outside. Her hair was wet, and he faintly recalled the smell of lavender on her skin. She liked to scent the soap she made with it.

Marinette saw him standing near the hearth, his eyes staring into it like it was telling him a haunting story. Something was on his mind. There seemed to be a lot he wasn't telling her about what happened today. She was terribly curious. But she kept it to herself. It wasn't her place to ask.

Instead, she tried to distract him from the burning fire and his own mind. Speaking out in a sassy tone as she walked over to the cupboard and took out a knife to begin cutting up a carrot to use for the stew tomorrow.

"Don't stand so close. I'm not sewing your clothes if you burn a hole in them… again." She teased him from over her shoulder.

Adrien chuckled. "Okay, mom." He teased back.

Marinette huffed at his stupid joke and began to chop. The fact that he was still making jokes, made her feel better. Perhaps he wasn't so upset.

A silence filled the room. It wasn't necessarily uncomfortable. But it was the kind of silence that happened when everyone was thinking too much.

She wondered how her parents liked him. She had not had a free moment to ask them privately, but she hoped he had made an impression on them. Because, well, lets be honest, he had certainly made an impression on her.

That thought made her wonder how he felt about her. She kept getting glimpses of something happening between them. But today, he called her his friend. Sure, in the moment, it was probably the correct word to describe their situation. But, was their any possibility that he thought of her as more than that? And how much time did they have to figure that out? He was nearly back to full health. There was no real reason for him to stay any longer. Unless… unless he actually really wanted to stay.

The knife caught her finger and the pain surprised her enough that she yelped. She grabbed her injured finger and put pressure on it to temporarily halt the bleeding.

Muttering to herself about her clumsiness, she walked over to her basket of scrap cloth to wrap her finger. Damn her mind for being so distracted by the thoughts of today. And by him.

She awkwardly began to fidget with the lid of the basket. Which was proving to be difficult with one hand. She hadn't heard him move, but he was suddenly next to her.

Marinette held her breath and let Adrien help her. Without a single spoken word, he took a small piece of clean cloth out of the basket and held it up for her.

"I-I can do it." She told him. Why was her voice shaking?

"I know. But, let me." He politely countered.

Without another word, he took her hand and began to wrap up her cut finger. Marinette tried to keep her hand from shaking as he held it so tenderly. She kept staring at his serious face as he worked. It wasn't the prettiest of dressings, but it was tight and functional.

Marinette felt a bit of sadness creep through her mind when he was finished and let go of her hand. She ran her fingers over the bandage and smiled at him.

"Thanks." She practically whispered.

Which was a little shocking, why was she whispering? Perhaps because they were both kneeling on the floor together? Or was it the lingering feeling of warmth in her hand from his touch?

She felt herself blushing so she shifted her weight to stand up and go back to chopping the carrots. Yep, chopping carrots was safe. Sitting here on the floor with him – not safe.

However, she barely got to her feet when his strong hand grabbed her shoulder and turned her back towards him.

Adrien pulled her to into him. Letting her practically fall into his arms. He drew her into his chest and held her tightly against him.

Marinette faintly gasped as she was now pressed against him and, not to mention, practically sprawled across his lap. Her pulse was racing because she hadn't expected this nor did she know what to do. Her heart was in her throat as it pounded a steady blush into her cheeks.

"A-Adrien…?"

"I'm sorry." He spoke into her hair. He was apologizing for everything and nothing at all.

"W-What for?"

He couldn't tell her. God help him. He couldn't tell her any of the thoughts wrecking his mind right now. Whatever it was. Whatever was coming. Whatever _this_ was. He could do nothing but apologize now, and hope that it would help in the future.

He tightened his grip and hugged her closer to his aching heart.

* * *

A/N: Thanks for reading! Fluff is good for the soul ;)


	8. Chapter 8

\- Chapter 8 -

The coming days seemed to blur together in a charming swirl of stupid, silly jokes, breath-stealing but shy physical encounters, and countless more colorful stories told to intently listening ears.

Early mornings were reserved for practice sparring and self-defense classes that Marinette soaked up like a sponge. On several occasions, she managed to land a solid punch or kick in Adrien's jaw or gut. She was instantly heartily apologetic as he doubled over in obvious pain. Despite the pain, Adrien couldn't be more thrilled when she bested him. Although, he definitely hammed it up a bit to earn him some extra soothing touches or endearments.

After breakfast, they sometimes split up to do various chores. Although they were never far from one another. Usually side-by-side as they talked, laughed, teased and lightly flirted.

Adrien let himself forget that his men were coming for him. That very soon this bliss would end. His heart took over his mind. No, she occupied his mind. His once troubled heart was awakened to joy. A feeling he barely remembered from his childhood once his mother had left. But with Marinette, he woke up smiling each day. Typically to the sounds of her delightful humming.

Lunch was either eaten quickly or usually forgotten altogether. They were having too much fun together. Meals became a time for deep conversation and stories.

No longer afraid to ask, Marinette let countless questions flow from her lips. Asking about his family, his friends, the War, the vastness of the World and lands so beyond her own. He never seemed to run out of answers that deeply satisfied her curiosity. But awakened her daydreaming heart.

"I want to see it." She told him as they lay together in the tall sweet smelling grasses. The afternoon sun delightfully warm on their faces.

"See what?" he asked, watching the wind play with her hair.

"Everything." She sighed, closing her eyes as if imagining it all.

He searched her lovely face, wanting so badly to see what she was picturing in her mind right now. He propped his head on his arm and let the moment freeze like a mental painting.

"That's pretty vague. Could you be more specific?" he teased her. "How about a jungle? Or the Ocean? Deserts are pretty boring. Sand everywhere."

She chuckled lightly and smiled. "All of it!" She exclaimed happily as she admit it out loud. She re-opened those blue eyes that reflected the sky.

She turned her head towards him slowly. That blue gaze so intense it almost burned. Her eyes were the bluest when she was happy.

In a voice so soft that it was like a prayer. Or the saddest of pleas. She spoke and the wind carried her words.

"Would you show me?"

In the moment, there was nothing else he wanted more than to see her in all of those places. Living those experiences with her again and again with each new site they journeyed to together. Watching her face light up with excitement upon seeing them for the first time. Oh, what an adventure. What freedom.

"It would be my pleasure."

With the words spoken, there was no taking them back now. Especially not when she smiled so brightly that his own lips mirrored the same reaction. It was so pure. So easy.

But that's just how love is.

Almost every evening, just after supper, they would dance together. Tapping, prancing and twirling to the same imaginary music. It wasn't awkward anymore. Not even when the pace slowed and they simply swayed together in the dying firelight.

Marinette was positively giddy each night when she lay her head down to attempt to fall asleep. Always too happy to sleep. But thrilled as to what the new day would bring. Willing herself to fall asleep fast so she could be awake once more and with him.

Sometimes Adrien would call out to her in the darkness. He himself unable to sleep for the same reasons. And knowing she would still be awake up in the loft. Usually it was some silly, corny joke or to tease her. She would bury her heated face in her pillow, stifling her laughter. But he could easily hear it from downstairs. He loved making her laugh.

And this was their routine for about two and a half wonderful weeks.

Marinette heard the horse's hooves long before she saw the three riders come into view. She never got visitors, especially not all on horseback. This wasn't a good sign. How did they know to come looking here?

She had just enough time check that Adrien was still out of site before she bravely walked towards the group of riders in order to properly greet them as they halted their horses in front of her.

Adrien had gone into the forest not long ago to check his snares and traps for the chance of having meat for dinner. She hoped that it would keep him busy long enough that she could get rid of these men. Whatever secrets he was hiding, these riders may want to do him harm. And she would not allow that to happen.

The men nodded to her formally and acknowledged her presence. However, they did not get off of their horses. Although, all three seemed to stare at her with wide eyes before exchanging confusing looks with one another.

Marinette put on a brave face, put her hands on her hips, and spoke up calmly. "Gentlemen, what do I owe the honor?"

"We are looking for someone." One of them spoke to her.

Even though he was sitting on a horse, the man who spoke was very tall. He seemed to loom above the others. His voice was deep and it matched his stature. His brown eyes were narrow and focused intensely on her. He was clearly armed with a large sword at his hip. She swallowed hard.

Marinette opened her mouth to ask who, but she was cut off by one of the other men speaking to her. This one was dressed differently then the others. He looked less like a soldier, and his clothing was nicer quality. He wore spectacles, which is not something you normally see worn. The sun hit the glass lenses creating a glare on his face.

"Miss, we have information that you may know the wareabouts of a young nobleman with blonde hair and green eyes. An officer who…"

Even though he was being quite polite, Marinette cut him off. "I've never seen such a man." She didn't know these men or what they wanted. She would protect Adrien. They could be the enemy.

"Miss, this is a matter of utmost importance. If you have information…" Spectacles kept talking.

Marinette narrowed her eyes. "I am sorry, but I do not know who you are talking about."

"Do you live alone?" This question came from the third man. He was the oldest of the three.

His hair was black with edges of grey showing throughout. His voice was rough and lacked any humor or politeness. His brown eyes were so dark that they were almost black.

He was the only one of the three to actually scare Marinette with his whole dark persona. Not to mention that he was also armed. She could see both a short sword at his hip and a terrifying looking longbow strapped to his back. She swallowed down a lump of bile in her throat, and did her best to stare him down.

"Yes." She answered honestly.

"No husband?" Black Eyes enquired further.

"There is no one here but me." Marinette stated confidently.

Black Eyes chuckled darkly and leaned forward in his saddle to match Marinette's stare. The two of them stared at one other for several long seconds before Black Eyes pulled away muttering something in another language.

Marinette felt herself become slowly unnerved. They were prying into her personal life. And, for some odd reason, she was answering their questions truthfully. She couldn't bring herself to even fib about being alone. The way Black Eyes stared at her made the truth pour from her lips. She was extremely uncomfortable and starting to feel scared. Drawing herself up, she gave herself a quick mental pep-talk before speaking again. This time, the anger bubbled in her throat as she spit out her words.

"Look, state your business here or leave." She said bluntly.

Spectacles and the Tall One exchanged nervous looks with one another. Black Eyes looked through her as if she was made of glass, his eyes watching something behind her. She greatly resisted the urge to turn and look over her shoulder to see what he was staring at.

"You are certain no one else is here?" The Tall One asked her again.

"Yes." She said darkly.

Spectacles shifted in his saddle. He leaned towards Black Eyes and muttered, "Erm… Could you… Perhaps you were… possibly mistaken? Clearly there is…"

"I am not mistaken." Black Eyes remarked coldly giving both the younger men a sideways glance that spoke volumes even to Marinette.

Spectacles and the Tall One exchanged yet another nervous and awkward glance with one another. Clearly there was some division between the group.

The older man urged his horse forward past Marinette. Not caring if she got stepped on, Marinette threw herself in front of the beast. Throwing her arms out wide to block its path.

"You do not have my permission to be here." She exclaimed as the horse paced nervously in front of her. She tried to resist the urge to wince.

"Move, girl!" Black Eyes bellowed to her, trying to pull his horse back from colliding with her.

Marinette bit down on her bottom lip but she did not move. Her outstretched arms began shaking a bit as her nerves began to get the better of her.

How long did this have to go on for? How long before they left her alone?

Bravely, she spoke again. "This is my house. You do not have my permission to enter."

Maybe she was hearing things, but Marinette swore that she heard Black Eyes physically growl at her. The noise sounded more animal than human.

"Enough!" Spectacles called to the older man. "You heard her, Plagg. Leave her alone."

"She's clearly lying." He growled to the other man.

Marinette pressed her lips together as tightly as possible. He would not steal the truth from her lips this time. She wanted him gone. She wanted them all gone. What chance did she have against the three of them?

"Mari…" Adrien called from behind her. As soon as she heard his voice, she felt a bit defeated. No, why hadn't he stayed in the forest? Why hadn't he stayed hidden?

Marinette whipped around and stared at him as he made his way forward towards the three men on horseback. Adrien tried to ignore the look of utter shock and confusion on her face.

"They are with me. It's okay."

He walked forward. Back straight and head held high – it was a walk he'd been poised and prepped for his entire life. It commanded authority. Upon reaching the group, he nodded to each the men individually. His heart warmed at seeing them all alive and well.

"Good to see you, Sire." Spectacles said.

Adrien smiled at his friend. "You as well."

"How long were you planning on hiding out here in the wilderness?" Black Eyes spoke sharply to him. His voice carried a dark sarcasm that was both annoyed and condescending. The man already wasn't winning any popularity contests with Marinette. And that remark put her over the edge.

"He was injured!" she spoke up sharply, defending Adrien and drawing everyone's attention back to her.

"Is this true?" Spectacles asked.

Adrien nodded. "Yes. It's true. I stumbled into Marinette's care and she brought be back from the dead."

"Well then, Miss Marinette, you have our thanks. The house of Agreste owes you a great debt." Spectacles smiled down to her. Black Eyes and the Tall One said nothing.

Upon hearing such a proper title be used, Marinette felt the questions begin to stir in her mind. Along with the sensation that there was much more to this than what was being said. She suddenly felt like a commoner. Her attire felt inappropriate. Her face was certainly covered in dirt. She had not addressed any of the men properly as potential noblemen. She felt guilty for speaking out so casually. There was more to Adrien than he had told her.

She suddenly felt like a fool. Of course Adrien was a member of aristocracy. How could he not be? It all made sense now. His armor should have been proof alone.

"Marinette, excuse us." Adrien told her sharply. When she didn't move, he cast his eyes in her direction. The look on her face was one of utter confusion and a mix of betrayal. To soften his harsh words, he kindly added, "… please."

Marinette shut her surprised mouth when he added the magic word. She had a million questions but this wasn't the time to ask any of them. Biting her tongue, she dropped into a small curtsey and lowered her eyes to the ground before backing away from the group of men.

Once she was a few steps away, she turned and headed into her house. In a lot of ways, she had expected this day to come. She just hadn't prepared herself for having this rush of anxiety and dread.

Leaning against the wall, she let herself sink down to the floor. The realization making her knees weak. Adrien would leave her. If not today, then probably tomorrow or the next day. This fantasy world they created was just that: a fantasy. This was the reality.

He was a high ranking soldier. If not a potential nobleman. Fully healed and ready to return to combat. To that god awful War he described to her in such vivid detail. She knew Adrien well enough to know that he had an immense sense of personal pride. He wouldn't simply desert his comrades.

Not that there was anything between the two of them. Certainly he didn't have romantic feelings for her. But then, why did he choose to stay so long? Why be so kind to her? Why dance with her every night?

She felt hurt. Betrayed. Like she didn't know him at all anymore. She stayed on the floor for a moment before it became too much. Biting her lip, she climbed the ladder and lay in her little bed in the loft.

Outside, Adrien's comrades had dismounted from their horses and the group of men began to talk. It didn't take but a moment after Marinette left for the conversation to begin.

"Sire… did you… did you see her…?" Nino remarked.

"Don't say it." Adrien hissed under his breath.

"But… she's got…"

Adrien stared daggers at his friend. "Erase it from your mind. All of you."

"But, Sir…" Kim spoke up.

"Not another word. It will only put her in more danger." Adrien told them firmly.

"Danger doesn't even begin to describe what will happen to her." Plagg muttered under his breath.

"Enough Plagg." Adrien warned him.

Plagg scoffed at the warning. "You've already doomed her."

Adrien took a step forward and grabbed the older man by the collar. The anger was coming off of his body in little coils of heat. His voice darkened and spoke every word like a threat.

"She doesn't know what she possesses. And none of you will tell her. That's an order."

Plagg did not comment further to Adrien's bold words. But he matched Adrien's gaze with his own. Not looking away. His dark eyes searched Adrien's. For he was seeing something he'd never seen in his young master's face before. Fear, yes. There was no doubt he was scared for the young woman. But also, passion. Unbridled concern mixed with a confident strength. Protective. These were emotions he had ever seen the sheltered young noble exhibit. Most of that due to his Father's overprotective influence.

Despite Adrien and Plagg's little confrontation, Kim and Nino leaned over and kept talking amongst themselves.

"How can she not know?" Kim muttered to Nino. "She must be, what, 16… 17? How could this happen?"

"I feel like I've just walked over my own grave." Nino told him quietly, physically shivering. "I don't know whether to run away screaming or grovel at her feet."

"I. Said. Enough! Stop talking." Adrien roared at them all warningly.

The bold physical action shocked Plagg enough that he bowed his head in shame and nodded despite the awkward hold Adrien had on his clothes. He had to obey a direct order. They all did. But Plagg especially.

Adrien released the man and tried to regain his composure. He knew he could trust his men to keep Marinette's secret, but the wider his circle gets the more danger she could be in. Perhaps Plagg was right. He may have already doomed her.

"Why protect her?" Kim asked, his voice calm, trying to defuse the situation.

Adrien thought for a moment. But then answered simply, "She cared for me… Knowing nothing about me."

There was more to it than that. But, for now, that was the truth he was going with. She cared not for his pedigree, only that he was a person on Death's door who needed help.

In turn, he felt the same way about her eyes.

"I will find a way to repay her kindness." He spoke softly.

The group talked casually for some time. Adrien asked questions about how the Opposition was fairing. To which, he got mixed responses from his comrades. They hated to give their young master bad news. But he had been missing for months. Presumed dead.

To make matters worse, word had already been sent to Adrien's father that he had been found alive. It would take a few days for the news to travel, but Adrien could almost guarantee that the man would order him home to the estate for some time. He hated to think what his Father would say when he sees the horrific scar now tattooing his son's skin.

His eyes wandered constantly back to the house. He was racking his brain on how to handle saying goodbye to Marinette.

"We've set up camp a few miles out. Enough provisions to see us back to the Opposition outpost." Kim told him. When Adrien wasn't listening to him, he repeated himself again. Only to not get an reply.

"Sire?"

"Huh? What?" Adrien asked. Clearly lost in thought.

"Sire…? Everything… okay?" Nino asked.

Glancing at his friends, each of their faces gave off confused glances. Plagg just looked irritated, but that was nothing new. Adrien snapped his attention back to them. "Yes, camp. Understood."

His gaze shifted back to the house. He let out a sigh and turned towards his men.

"Give us a moment." He told them genuinely.

Kim and Nino nodded in understanding. Plagg said nothing.

As Adrien started forward, Plagg grabbed his arm and whispered low to him.

"Where is your head at, kid?"

Plagg always called Adrien a kid. Truth was, to Plagg, Adrien was a kid. His voice was judgmental and so were his eyes.

"I'm just saying goodbye, Plagg."

"Are you though?" the older man hissed low so that only the two of them could hear.

Adrien pulled his arm out of Plagg's grip. He felt his anger building up once again. Plagg always knew how to push him so that he thought harder about every action he took. He knew he was too emotional to think logically. But, in the moment, he did not want to think logically. He did not want to think about his duties, his title, or his responsibilities. He wanted to figure out how to say goodbye.

Ignoring Plagg's burning question. He turned away from the group and walked slowly back towards the little house.

He paused in the doorway, unsure how to even approach the situation with Marinette. After all they had gone through together. All this time spent together. What could he even say to her? What words could make this encounter less painful?

Finding his courage, he went inside. He searched the little room only to find it empty. Looking over his shoulder he looked towards the garden and then further out to the well, but Marinette was not in either location.

His gaze returned to the room. Looking from the hearth, to the bed, and finally to the ladder leading up to the loft. Swallowing hard on a dry throat, he knew that was the last place to look for her.

However, he couldn't go over there just yet. Instead, he went to the corner of the little room, where his soldier's armor lay neatly piled on the floor. Shoved in the corner and forgotten. It hadn't moved from that spot in a long time.

Slowly, he started to put the pieces back on. One at a time, like it was a painful process. They weighed more than he remembered. Or maybe it was the feeling of their weight dragging on his heart.

He did not tightly fasten all the buckles. Just enough so that they didn't fall off when he moved. Truth be told, he really needed a squire to be able to latch everything down properly. There were some fasteners that he just couldn't reach by himself. All the while he listened for any noise from the loft upstairs. But it was quiet.

Marinette could hear him very clearly. The metal armor making distinct noises as he put it back on. Her hand covered her mouth and nose, so that he wouldn't hear the small sobs that escaped her lips.

Adrien paused at his helmet. The last piece in the ensemble. Instead of putting it on, he tucked it under his arm as he headed for the door.

He paused, looking again towards the loft. If she was up there, she was probably asleep. He didn't want to wake her just to say an emotional goodbye. Perhaps it was better this way?

Ever worried about her, he couldn't leave it at that. He had to know she was at least up there. Crossing the room, he started to climb the rickety ladder to the loft. His armor making it awkward, especially holding his helmet under one arm.

Heart racing, she pinched her eyes closed, and tried not to move. He never came up here. At least, not while she was there. He had always respected her privacy. Perhaps he was just checking on her?

Adrien got far enough up the ladder so that he could peer up into the small space.

"Mari?" he called to her in a voice just above a whisper. Not sure what he would say if she happened to be awake. A blanket was pulled up to her ears, as she lay in her makeshift bed with her back to him.

Marinette forced herself to lie absolutely still. She dared to even breathe. Pretending to be asleep felt so obviously fake. She wondered if her act was convincing at all.

'Idiot.' She told herself. 'You're an idiot. Say something!'

But, she didn't. She only bit her tongue and pretended to be asleep. She couldn't face him. Her mind completely confused with emotions and feelings that she couldn't fully understand.

Adrien didn't say anything further. Even saying goodbye felt worthless. There was so much more that needed to be said.

He descended back down the ladder and crossed the small room quickly – taking large, heavy steps. Not daring to look back. He was out the door, and heard it slam shut behind him.

'Childish.' He thought to himself as his head hung in shame. 'I'm such coward.'

Looking up, he saw his men there waiting for him. Although Nino now rode with Kim, letting Adrien have a horse to himself.

The group said nothing to their young master as mounted his horse and urged it forward. The gave him some space and rode at a comfortable following distance as they began their journey back to their camp.

Adrien didn't come back that night, or the next morning. Despite his absence, Marinette still slept up in the attic loft. She couldn't imagine sleeping in her own bed for some time. She didn't really see it as her bed anymore.

Her home seemed empty without him. Her life felt disjointed.

She wondered if he had truly left without saying goodbye. That thought hurt her more than anything. The sound of the door slamming had been so absolute. He was gone. Perhaps gone for good.

It was late afternoon by the time she heard the sound of horse's hooves. Heart in her throat, she kept as physically calm as possible. She didn't rush out to greet them, only casually walked to the doorway and peeked her head out.

She expected to see his men with him, but he rode alone. She faintly gasped at the site of him. He had new clothes on and new boots. The cloth looked exceedingly expensive. Gone was the linen shirt that she had sewed at least dozen times.

He dismounted from the horse in a single fluid moment looking so polished and refined that she was afraid to touch him for fear of dirtying him. He almost didn't seem like the same person.

He approached her cautiously. Afraid she would be mad at him for leaving so suddenly. They stood in the doorway for some time and the two of them just awkwardly paced in place.

He had had a speech prepared. He had even practiced it on the ride over. However, upon seeing her, the words felt meaningless. He owed her more than some canned response. Finally, he found his voice, even if it was just to say her name.

"Marinette…"

She sniffed, fighting to keep tears from spilling over from her eyes.

"I know." She reassured him. "I know."

"Then you know I can't stay."

She nodded her head slowly. "It's okay. Really. I'll be fine."

Adrien took a few steps towards her, but then stopped.

He should warn her. He should alert her what danger might befall her. Truthfully, he wanted to lock her away somewhere and keep her safe from harm forever. But that wasn't fair to her. She needed to live her life. Here was a sweet, caring, brave and free-spirited girl. He couldn't take that freedom away from her. Goodness knows he understood what that felt like. Let her stay in her tiny home on the outskirts of the forest and continue to have the life she wanted.

She was safer here. He would disappear. That way no one would come looking for him again, and accidentally see her or her blue eyes.

For him, it wasn't about her eyes. He hardly saw their color anymore. It hurt to leave her because he cared about her.

With that thought, his feet moved on their own.

His arms encircled her and brought her tightly up against his chest. The bold action shocked her because she let out a small 'eep' of surprise. Her body was rigid and stiff in his arms. But the longer he held her, the more she began to relax. Soon she pressed the side of her face against his chest and closed her own eyes against the sensation. She let herself remember this moment.

"Thank you." He whispered into her dark hair. She smiled a dull smile and nodded her head against his chest.

Adrien took a small enough step back to be able to put one hand on each side of her face. The action pulled her gaze up to his and held her immobile. His green eyes flashed when he spoke to her.

"Promise me, if you ever hear horses coming up your road, day or night. Promise me that you'll run into the forest and hide. Even if you have to hide for days." He begged. "Don't trust anyone. Just hide."

Her face twisted in confusion, and she opened her mouth to ask questions. His grip tightened on her face, making her give him a look that bordered on panic.

"P-Promise me."

His voice broke slightly with those pleading words, and his shoulders slumped powerless to do anything to protect her except caution her.

His tone hushed her questions. She searched his emotional face for something more, but found only sadness and desperation. She didn't know what any of this meant. Slowly, she nodded her head in agreement.

"Say it." He begged harder. His hands started shaking as he held her head. His green eyes locked on hers. So serious that it scared her.

Marinette felt the sad tears spill from her eyes. His forceful tone both frightened and confused her. Certainly her heart was about to burst with sadness.

Through her hot tears and shaking breath, she promised him.

And then, because he had wanted to since the first time he saw her and possibly even more so now, he kissed her. It felt awkward and bitter on her mouth. There was no romance in the action, just sadness. It was not the first kiss she imagined with him. It hardly felt like a kiss at all. Certainly not a real kiss. Kisses shouldn't break your heart. This one did.

He broke away and felt shattered. He left without another word or glance in her direction.

He rode away from Marinette with his heart like a stone in his chest. Every step from the horse was like torture. He may never see her or her eyes again. It was better that way. She was safer to remain in the house tucked away in the forest, guarded by family in a nameless village. Far away from those who would want to possess her eyes. And the beautiful maiden who held them.

* * *

A/N: Thanks for reading! I hope everyone is doing well. Leave a comment and say Hi :) Also, thanks to everyone who points out my grammatical and spelling issues. I don't have a proof reader on this. It's just little 'ol me. And my brain reads right over them XD.


	9. Chapter 9

\- Chapter 9 -

A bright yellow moon hung over a large fishing township that overlooked a busy port. The town had earned a reputation for attracting unsavory folks due to the large amount of people that passed through. Only thick-skinned locals braved living there year round. Any wealthy individuals that arrived by ship usually had a carriage waiting to take them away from the town almost immediately; lace handkerchiefs covering their noses and mouths to keep a delicate layer of fabric between their lungs and the fishy smelling air.

Like most port towns, it had a bar. Which was the primary nighttime hangout for anyone not immediately whisked away. The bar smelled musky and was packed with sailors, dock workers, mercenaries, and, of course, drunks.

A man sat huddled at the bar; pissing what little money he had into ale to help drown his thoughts away. Although, as usually happened with large consumptions of alcohol, the more he drank, the more his lips opened up.

"Gimme 'nother…" he garbled to the barkeep.

The barkeep, a man with deep lines of age showing in his face, shuffled over to where the visiting drunkard sat at his bar. The man had been practically living on that stool for the better part of two weeks. Long enough to be on a first name basis. And learn all about his tales of woe.

"I'm cutting you off..." The barkeep told him.

The drunk snapped his head up and stared crazy eyes at the barkeep.

"I've gots money, don't I? So I be telling you when I've had enough." He slapped another coin on the counter so hard that it made a bang that faintly echoed in the tiny room. "Fill 'er up."

Shaking his head, the barkeep complied. If this man wanted to drink himself drunk as dead, then it wasn't going to be on his conscious.

As he put the full ale down in front of him, he said. "Pretty soon your coin's gonna run out, bud."

The man scoffed and cursed under his breath, waving the man off with a dramatic gesture. He took a large gulp and burped dramatically. A quarter of the way through the ale, he started swaying in his seat. Half way through, and he was mumbling to himself while drawing little circles with his fingernails on the bar.

The barkeep eyed him carefully at the other end of the bar. He really didn't want to be cleaning up puke tonight.

The young man had shown such promise when he first entered the bar. Originally looking for temporary work as he slowly made his way for the False Prince's Palace. His clothing had been a bit disheveled and torn in places, but it was clearly remnants of a soldier's military uniform. Although any identifying faction marks or insignias had been ripped off of his shoulder and chest. While suspicious, it certainly wasn't cause for alarm. Lots of soldiers defected. That was just the way of the Copy King's War.

The barkeep couldn't offer him any work, but told him to check with the docks.

Apparently he lasted only a few days there before he was told to leave and not return. Rumors started floating around that he was crazy. The barkeep was inclined to believe them. Especially now, when he sat on his stool, swaying with drunkenness and repeating the same word over and over again.

"Blue…" he mumbled. "Blue… Blue… Blue…"

* * *

It came to no surprise to Adrien that his Father ordered him back to the family estate immediately. If he had any say in the matter (which he did not), he would have stayed with the Opposition through the winter. However, many of his men were homesick and stood ready to jump at the opportunity of returning home. So, for their sakes, he began to make the arrangements to go back. He was temporarily dismissed from his duties with the Opposition. With the harsh winter months coming soon, there would be very little fighting between both sides.

It was a long journey, but everyone was in relatively good homecoming spirits. Even with the high winds during the day, and the nights turning bitter cold. But the first snow of the season managed to hold off until they were just a few miles out.

The freshly fallen snow coating the cobblestones as Adrien's horse trotted up to the gates of his Father's estate. The high stone walls that encircled the house barely giving a view of the spires and roof. The metal gates opened slowly in the cold as he approached. He paused before entering. While his head was happy to see the familiar scene, his heart was cold. As much as this estate was the house he grew up in, it never felt like home.

"Too late to turn back now, I suppose." He muttered in the cold. His hot breath visible in the torch light with every breath he spoke.

"Don't let him get to you." Plagg spoke up. Adrien had all but forgotten he was there, hearing his voice made him jump slightly.

"I guess that I'm just not ready for the monotonous set schedules, silent dinners and bitter sentiments…"

Plagg did not respond to his remark. Not that he expected him too. He was all too aware at just how Adrien's father treated his son.

Changing the subject, Adrien urged his horse forward. When Plagg didn't follow, he turned around.

"Not coming?" he called.

"I have other business to attend to." Plagg told him.

Adrien huffed. He knew Plagg would disappear now for some time. Part of him was used to it. But a larger part of him was curious where he went. Because as much as he asked, Plagg never told him. It was always the same 'business' remark.

"Come on, Plagg. We've been riding for weeks. At least something hot to eat?" He urged. If Plagg had one weak point, it was food. The man could always eat.

Although, this time, not even food was persuasive enough. Plagg promptly turned his horse and disappeared down the dark path without another word. Soon after, Adrien couldn't even hear his horse's hoof beats on the cobblestones anymore.

But that was Plagg. Straightforward, mysterious, and to the point.

Sighing to himself, Adrien rode through the gates and up to the main entrance. A wave of servants exited the estate as he rode up and dismounted. They greeted him only briefly, as they had been told and trained to do so, taking his horse and offering him warmed blankets, hot beverages and a multitude of other luxuries both extravagant and utterly ridiculous. He politely declined all of their offerings before making his way through the great wooden entrance doors.

Nothing had changed. Everyone spoke the same and acted the same. It was like walking through the same boring story day after day.

He walked through a few winding stone halls, until he came to the great hall. The fireplace burning like small inferno in the hearth. The heat coming from it warmed the room so much that Adrien began to sweat.

His Father stood in front of that roaring fire. His back and posture perfectly straight as he stared into the flames.

"Hello Father." Adrien called to him.

"I was informed that you sustained some injuries while serving the Opposition."

No 'hello'. No 'welcome home'. No 'happy to see you'. Just straight to the point. With zero emotion in his voice.

Adrien knew what kind of conversation this was going to be. So he prepared himself. He stayed where he was. The heat from the fire almost too much to walk any closer. He put his hands comfortably behind his back and kept his feet shoulder width apart. His typical stance for long conversations. He could stay this way for hours. He hoped this wasn't one of those kinds of conversations. But it was certainly starting out that way.

"Yes, Father." He responded.

"Were they serious?"

It was a simple question, but a loaded question. If he said yes, then he would be scrutinized. If he said no, then he would be a liar. Adrien tried to think of the proper way of describing what had happened. He opted to skip the details and get straight to the point. He would either believe him, or he wouldn't.

"I've fully recovered."

"Have you?" His Father questioned. Slowly, Adrien's father turned around to face his son.

Adrien turned his eyes to the floor. "Yes."

"Did you see a physician?"

"Yes." Adrien answered. Marinette had probably been a better healer than most so-called physicians he'd ever come in contact with.

His Father turned his attention back to the fire. He let out a noise that sounded like a "Humph." Adrien felt himself stand up a little straighter; he'd done a good job at deflecting the questions to earn that kind of a response.

"Either way… I will send for a proper physician, who you will see will see first thing in the morning." His father flippantly ordered. "I will expect to receive a full report of your health. Until then, you will stay indoors and limit your interactions with others."

Adrien grit his teeth, but bowed his head and agreed.

"Goodnight then."

"Goodnight Father." And he backed up slowly for several steps until turning around and strutting quickly away from the Hall.

Once his Father learned of the massive scar on his side, he would be in serious trouble. He may never see the daylight again. Okay, that thought was an exaggeration. But he certainly wouldn't be happy.

Sheer muscle memory brought Adrien up the winding stairs and to his own quarters. Shooing away any lingering servants, he shut his door firmly and finally let out a deep and satisfying breath.

A small fire was lit in the fireplace, making shadows dance on the walls. Sitting on his hardwood desk was a large silver tray consisting of several covered dishes. The highly polished silverware faintly glistened in the firelight. Food sounded good, but not right now. His stomach would have to get used to the decadent, rich foods again. What he wouldn't give for some plain porridge. The chef would probably look at him like he had three heads if he were to ask for that.

Adrien's eyes moved to one of his favorite things in the room, a painting done of his late mother. Her beautiful portrait hung above the fireplace in a hand-carved, polished wood frame. His Father had ordered all of her portraits to be removed from his site. Adrien had managed to save this one, and his Father had not complained to greatly that it now hung in his son's room.

Crossing the large room, he went to the window and pulled back the thick drapes and tassels that dragged to the floor. Tucking them securely behind an ornate iron hook on the wall. He could faintly make out the snow flurries as they fell from the sky. The glass was cold as he laid his forehead against it.

While the setting felt very familiar, his heart wasn't there. He tried not to think of places he'd rather be. Or of people he'd rather be with.

Pushing himself away from the window, he walked out of his office and opened another door that led into his bedroom. Another fire was lit in the fireplace of this room. No cold could be felt in either room.

Slowly, he undressed for bed. His nightshirt felt weird against his skin. He couldn't figure out why. Pulling back the many covers, furs and blankets, he slid into the large bed just for him. Its four poster wood canopy looming above his head. He lay back against one of the many feather pillows and tried to get comfortable. However, no amount of tossing or turning could make the bed cozy. Suddenly, it dawned on him. Silk. The sheets, his nightshirt, they were all silk. Luxurious, smooth, and absolutely foreign to his skin.

Throwing back the covers, he got out of the bed. He searched the room for answers. But found only plush couches, an ornate dresser, footstools, polished wood side tables, and dozens of unlit wax candles ready to be used in a moment's notice.

He stood there for a long moment surrounded by the wealth and lavishness of his rooms.

'I hate this.' He told himself. 'I hate this so much.'

Selfishly, he finally let his mind go where it wanted to go. And, immediately, it was back in Marinette's little house. He was back with her without a second thought. Laughing, teasing, and happy. So blissfully happy that it seemed wrong. He closed his eyes, remembering it like a vivid dream. The ache hit him so hard that he nearly fell over.

It shouldn't be this hard. Perhaps, with time, the desire would lessen.

But, for this first night back alone in his Father's lavish house, without the distractions of his friends and men to occupy his head, he pulled the blankets off the bed and onto the stone floor. He lay amongst the foreign fabrics and let himself think of her. Only then did sleep finally pull at his conscious.

* * *

Hundreds of miles away, on a separate night, a weasel of a man stumbled back into a port-side bar after spending most of the day sleeping in an alley and then wandering the streets of the town telling his story to anyone willing to listen. Now, the night was frigid and he needed something to fill the empty space in his soul.

The barkeep groaned loudly as he saw the man enter the bar. Tonight, the bar was particularly crowded with groups of road-rough travelers. So far, the ruckus was minimal. But the night was young, and no one was that drunk yet.

As the man took is usual spot, the barkeep resisted the urge to just throw him out now. But, hey, money is money.

"Ale." The man grunted.

"Let me see your coin first." The barkeep told him.

"Ale." He repeated like he didn't even hear him respond.

"Coin first. Or get."

The man groaned loudly, scratched at his dirty, spotty facial hair, and began to dig in his pockets.

The barkeep moved away to help another patron while he fumbled in his tattered clothing to find whatever money he had left. He began pulling out several half balled up pieces of paper and setting them on the bar while the search continued. Upon noticing that the barkeep wasn't paying him any attention, he yelled to him.

"Don't yers go no where. I got money!" he yelled as he successfully pulled a coin from somewhere on his person and held it up high for the world to see.

The barkeep filled a mug with ale and brought it to him, snatching the coin from his dirty fingers as he set it down.

"You raise your voice again, Wes, and you're gone. You heard me?"

Wes waved him away and mumbled curses as he brought the mug to his lips and drank heavily. Once finished, he fumbled for more money. Somehow, he found a coin worthy of two more mugs of ale – which he drank in record time.

As the alcohol began to flow steadily in his veins, Wes started to get chatty. He starting talking out loud, not speaking to anyone in particular even though he thought everyone was listening. Same stories, same sad, pathetic reasoning.

"… Good fer nothing War… [hic]…"

"… talking nonsense… he said… I said…"

"… I [hic] I… know what I saw… [hic]…"

"… no respect…"

"… demote me… I… demote you! Heh heh. [hic]…"

"… I'll show 'em… I'll show the Blue…"

Wes began pondering over his papers, suddenly noticing they were in front of him like little presents. Carefully, he began pressing them against the bar to try and get out any wrinkles. Although the paper was so old and mistreated, the process seemed ridiculous. He even managed to rip a few. But in Wes's mind, they were paving the way to his inevitable fortune.

The barkeep came by to collect his empty mugs. Wes held up a paper to show him what it said. The paper was upside-down, but easily recognizable as a Wanted notice. A wanted notice for sightings of blue-eyed people.

"Look 'ere. Five hundred gold coins… T'is one, five thousand… an d'is, ten thousands!"

The barkeep just nodded his head and tried his best to look busy so Wes would stop talking to him. He had heard it all before. Those reward posters had been up for years. Their sums of money absolutely absurd.

Upset that no one was listening to his ranting, Wes turned in his chair and faced the room pointing at the paper.

"I'm telling you, I saw one. With my own two eyes!" Wes shouted to the grim looking crowd that had gathered in the gristly little bar.

"Shut ya mouth over 'ere." Someone yelled back

"You shut up." Someone else called back.

Curses flew across the bar, along with a few glasses and mugs. The barkeep bellowed out a final warning to the rowdy crowd, and that got everyone to momentarily quiet down and return to their drinks.

Unhappy that no one was paying him any attention now that the barkeep had intervened, Wes fisted one of the papers and scooted off his stool. He tried to brace himself using the stool and the bar, but managed to knock the barstool over and let is crash loudly to the floor. Standing up caused a single coin to fall from somewhere on his person. Stumbling, and delirious with drink, he picked it up and giddily proceeded to order another ale.

"You're done after that." The barkeep told him.

Wes gestured rudely and let out a slurred string of curse words at the man. "You'll regret that. Once I git her, you'll be fuckin' beggin' me for my money."

The barkeep let the words bounce right off. He'd been called worse. Unfortunately for him, the group tonight was in the mood to bait the drunk man.

"How d'you know it's even a girl?" someone at a nearby table asked.

West whipped around, searching the room for whoever spoke but unable to discern who it was.

"Cuz, I seen 'er. That's how!" he said to the crowd.

That remark earned him a few whispers and laughs.

"I'm s-seriousss. It's a girl. P-Pretty assss they come." His words slurred with intoxication, as he mimed an hourglass figure in the air.

"Oh yeh? Well then call me the King of France." Shouted another man. Which earned him a hoot of laughter from his buddies.

Wes stumbled over to the group of men, clearly too far gone to care what he said anymore.

"Wes…" the barkeep warned, but it was too late.

Wes slammed his half drunk ale on the table. "Welp, yer highnesss, you best-t be paying attention to myself. I'm telling yer theirs a bloody blue eyed woman out theres…"

"You don't say?" someone baited him.

Wes nodded and took a long swig of his ale. "Yesssir, I'm tellin' you. Like I've seen her. I was there!" His voice grew louder with each word.

"Yer a bloody liar." Someone else yelled out.

"Am-s-not." Wes slurred.

A grizzly of a man stood up and loomed over the smaller man. He put his bearded face close enough that each drunkenly spoken word caused a bit of spit to hit Wes in the face.

His eyes were impossibly wide and his voice was jovial with sarcasm. "So you're tellin' me, that I can go out there, right now, and find the last, sole surviving blue eyed person, and she'll also be a total babe? Is that was your spouting 'ere Wes?"

Wes poked a skinny finger into the man's large chest. "You're damn right that's what I've been tryin' to telling yous."

"Well, lead the way, Wes ol'boy. Lead the way." He gestured emphatically towards the door, encouraging him to leave.

Ale mug in hand, Wes stumbled towards the door gripping chairs and falling on people with every step he took. People laughed and jeered him as he moved towards the door. Drunkenly believing that he had finally convinced someone that she was real. That it wasn't all in his head. That girl from the ramshackle village in the middle of that creepy ass forest that seemed to go on forever. She was real. And they would finally get her.

When he reached the door, he pushed it outward and threw his ale into the air in victory. "We ride!" he cried out. "Fortune awaits us!" And chugged the remains of his ale.

He spun in a little awkward circle looking for the men that were supposed to be following him outside. However, he was very much alone. Throwing the mug against the ground in anger, it shattered on the cobblestone street and he stumbled back inside the bar.

The bar was still laughing at him when he re-entered. His eyes found the large man who had betrayed him and he lurched forward, grabbing him weakly by the collar.

"Yers suppost'ed to follow me. Yer a damn liar!" he screamed into his face.

Things went from bad to worse in about a half a second. The bar erupted into an all out brawl. Wes got the stuffing kicked out of him, but the level of alcohol in his body made him numb to the pain.

"Blue…" he kept saying even through his split lip and broken nose. "Blue… blue… blue…"

It took royal soldiers who were guarding the ships in the port to come break up the bar fight. They dragged Wes, bleeding and babbling, from the bar and dumped him in an alley.

* * *

It took well over three months for that weasel of a man to finally make his way to the False Prince's palace on foot. Driven by pure greed, he looked nothing like the man he once was. Ever much the madman, spouting nonsense and begging in the streets.

As much as he begged and pleaded, he would never be granted a direct audience with the Prince. No one believed the stories he was spouting over and over again. False claims of blue-eyed people were common. Wes's claims fell on deaf ears.

But still he persisted relentlessly. The reward for giving up her location would be too great. He waited outside the palace gates, shouting day and night in hopes that someone would finally hear him.

Nino was acting as a double agent in the False Prince's palace. It was a spy mission a long time in the making. Loyal to the House of Agreste, he was there serving as a visiting musician to entertain the False Prince's elaborate courts, while keeping a watchful eye on the False Prince's movements to report back in secret.

He overheard the ranting's of the madman outside the Palace walls. The way he described the blue-eyed girl, made the words burn in Nino's chest. He tried his best not to react to them. But, oh Gods, he knew they were true.

For now, he kept quiet. He could not risk blowing his cover. He had to find a good enough excuse to leave, and do it soon. Someone knew of that girl's location. Either way, he had to tell Adrien. Or if need be, he would take the madman out, in order to protect that young woman. Because, he knew how much the woman meant to Adrien – even if he wouldn't admit it.

* * *

A/N: Hi Everyone! Sorry for the short chapter... and this might be the last update for a bit. As always, thank you for reading. I love all the comments. ^-^ What do you think so far? I can't believe we are 9 chapters in and I've barely touched on the pain plot. Oh well :) This will be a looong fic.


	10. Chapter 10

(Quick disclaimer - This chapter contains violence and adult themes.)

\- Chapter 10 -

Now that the weather had turned, the land seemed to be perpetually coated in a thick white blanket of Winter's snow. However, it had been a gentle Winter this year. No terrible ice storms or frozen winds to hide away from.

Even the False Prince's palace was not immune to the weather, as snow piled up in the courtyards and in the streets. Thus, preventing Theo's carriage from returning to the palace until it could be cleared.

While his staff and servants worked tirelessly to clear a path for the carriage, Theo sat within his ornate and lavish carriage, draped so heavily in furs and pelts that he barely felt the cold. The waiting bored him. Oh how he hated to be bored.

Citizens began lining up the streets, peeking around his guards for a look at the splendid carriage. All in hopes of catching a glimpse of Theo himself. Beggars shouted and called out to him for mercy. But their words fell of deaf ears as he ignored them completely.

Pathetic, filthy people. They had no concept of life beyond their next meal. It took a true visionary, such as himself, to think beyond such things. To see that this world was ripe for the taking. All it took was a particular set of skills to acquire it.

He tapped on the heavy amulet around his neck. Its magnificent and large blue center stone shinning dully even in the low winter light. He wanted more like this. More riches, more glory. It irked him that his army had not succeeded further this year. His conquests remained stagnant.

Did they not realize how hard he had worked to get here? Just who he had stepped on as he had climbed his way to the top? This world was stuck in its silly, historical traditions. Set in place by individuals who were long since dead and buried in the ground.

He was determined to break them. One by one. Until all the Dukes, Lords and families of old knelt and pledged their eternal loyalty to him. Only then would they call him their King.

He had taken their precious royal palace years ago. He slept within its kingly walls almost every night. Surrounded by the living chronicle of custom and the legacies of old. Haunting him. Taunting him. Still it wasn't enough to turn these people to his side. Force was the only way to prove his point. He knew that now.

So, for now, he waited. And his boredom grew greater day by day. He had nothing to entertain himself. The ladies of his court were drab, dull and pitiful. Falsies stumbled and tripped throughout the palace as they tried to hide their self-inflicted blindness. Their attempts at fake beauty utterly pathetic.

Even his supposed bride-to-be bored him. She being wealthy heiress of lands he now owned as part of his collection. Her hand in marriage had been a gift from her Father.

At one time, her face had pleased him. Her cold, ruthless demeanor had made him smile. Her grey eyes sometimes showing off hints of blue, depending on what heavy eyeshadows and cosmetics she used. He kept her around because her Father continuously poured gobs of coin into his army. Theo hoped that soon her Father's money wouldn't matter anymore. Once he was King, he could easy enact a law that allowed him to have any woman he wanted. He would have plenty of beauties in his harem to choose from. Easily cast aside once he grew bored.

Until then, he was stuck with these volunteers.

The good thing was, he did not need to marry her to earn her Father's money. Just the lie was enough to fool the stupid man. Besides, she had taken to court life like any other high bred woman. Demanding, bossy and completely full of herself. Choosing to fully absorb in Theo's lavish lifestyle and all the luxuries that came with being a potential queen. Although, more recently her attempts at entertaining him were seen as tacky. She was trying too hard. Plastering her face with cosmetics, and coating her skin in perfume just to get noticed. A fake through and through. Theo had already grown bored of her. And she knew it too.

Theo scratched at his neck. The cold weather drying out his skin and lips. What the hell was taking so long? Surely it did not take this amount of time to clear away snow?

A disgustingly grubby man suddenly shoved his way past the guards and rushed forward, risking his life to approach the Prince's carriage. Theo kept his face immobile as he watched him out of the corner of his eye, his hands shifting to his own weapon within the carriage.

His hair was long, unkempt and matched his patchy beard. His face was horribly disfigured from too many broken bones not setting correctly. His clothes hung off of his scrawny limbs. Clearly lacking proper nutrition or any nutrition for that matter. Also add the fact that he stank of alcohol.

The man almost made it before he was violently struck and landed hard on the snowy street at the base of the carriage. His red blood spattered on the white snow.

Despite the head injury, he reached a shaking hand out towards the dark carriage window.

"My Prince. My Prince. Please a moment of yer time. Please, I beg of you."

A guard pulled him up by his collar, coiled back a fist and punched him in the stomach. The pain shot through his body, but did not steal his voice.

" (cough) Imma scout. (cough) A scout for the Opposition! On my tour… I've seen blue-eyes!"

Talking hurt. Everything hurt. His lungs felt like they were burning as he tried to breathe.

"(cough) I found. A female blue. Nearly of 18 years. (cough) (spit) A true beauty, my Prince." He cried out.

More Palace guards instantly surrounding him. Kicking and pushing him backwards and away from the carriage. The man sat on his knees in the snow, taking the blows because he lacked the strength to fight back.

From the distance away, Wes continued to shout. Using any flattery to gain the Prince's attention.

"Please my Prince. No, my King! Yes, my King! I tell the truth."

Another blow knocked him sideways, but it did not silence him.

"She's real! A beauty! I swears my life on it, my King."

Theo heard him, but did not see any truth to his words. Certainly he would be aware of something that rare before this deranged lunatic?

"I'ms'a in no position to lie to yous! I have nothing! Nothin' to lose, my King." Wes pleaded.

Bold words. Bold enough to make Theo smirk. Perhaps it was worth investigating? The idea certain intrigued him. What he wouldn't give to have a blue-eyed person. Everyone certainly would have to take notice of him then.

Theo made a simple gesture of his fingers and his guards moved away from the man.

Upon noticing the guards back away, Wes jumped to his feet. How he managed that, despite his injures, was baffling. But clearly fueled by the fact that the Prince would now listen to him – This was his chance.

"Oh, thank yous. Thank you, my King!" he called out as he made his way towards the carriage, stumbling and falling in the deep snow. The guards moved and formed a line in front of him blocking him from getting unnecessarily close to Theo. But close enough to talk.

Peeking around their physical bulk, the man removed his hat and wrung it nervously in his hand. He could see Theo's profile from inside the darkness of the carriage. He'd never thought that he'd make it this far.

From within the carriage, Theo called out to the man. His voice was snide and condescending.

"If it's true, then you truly do have nothing to lose." He turned to glare at the man. "But lie, and you will lose your life. So, you have everything to lose."

The man's small-minded and alcoholic brain could not fully wrap around the poetic nature of Theo's words. He simply chuckled nervously and shifted his weight back and forth on each leg.

Theo sighed in annoyance and rubbed his temple. "Where?" he asked plainly.

The man perked up instantly. "Fifteen, maybe sixteen days ride from heres. I'm sure your Highness' troops could do it in ten. Inna small village at the midst of ans old forest."

Theo smiled weakly. Oh, flattery would do him no good.

"You said eighteen years?"

"Yes, my King, at least that. A beauty too: raven hair and fair skinned. A sure prize bitch."

Theo sat silent in his carriage thinking it over. The idea fascinated him. If what the man said was true. He wanted her. There was not a shadow of a doubt that he wouldn't claim her. Her. Her. Yes, it was a woman. The very thought made his loins ache. He would be the sole owner of the last blue-eyed person. Oh just to see those eyes. A pure blue eye like all the legends say. All to himself. No one else. Just to see them for real, he felt giddy with a sinister excitement. He hadn't been this excited about something in a very long time.

And if this man was wrong, well, let him serve as a bloody reminder to any others who dared to lie to him about a blue-eyed person ever again. He'd hang his mutilated corpse from the palace gates to serve as such reminder.

What interested Theo the most was the fact that the man had jeopardized his very life to dare and face him like this. Only a man harboring truth would willingly and voluntarily risk Theo's wrath.

Motioning to one his guards, Theo whispered something inaudible to him. The guard then disappeared and a few others took his place.

Wes watched as guards shifted positions and the Prince spoke to a few others briefly before turning back to him.

"My guards will see that you are prepared to accompany them on this quest. For your sake, they better return with **_my_** prize."

A shout rang out from somewhere up ahead, signaling that the way was clear. The horses began to stir and make ready to move.

Wes bravely squeaked a few more brave words before the Prince whisked away. "What ere 'bout my reward?"

Theo's head snapped in the man's direction. Irritation darkening his voice as he spit his words to him. "You're reward is my advice: Escort my men, and prove that your tales are worth my time of standing in your filthy presence."

Wes' felt his resolve break. After all this, was he to get nothing? Nothing? At all?

"Find her. Or you will suffer at my hand, and death will be your only mercy." Theo hissed as a final warning. A whip cracked, and the carriage lurched forward, wheels crunching in the snow as it moved away.

Wes stood there dumbfounded and afraid. Deathly afraid. His brain had stopped firing on all cylinders. Had he? Had he lost? After how far he'd come? Show them the way, or be tortured until the end of time. No reward. No gold. No credit. No nothing.

As the two palace guards approached him, he could do nothing accept let them escort him away. Just another pawn in the game.

* * *

A single scream rang out in alarm as the sun was at its highest point in the sky. It was a beautiful spring day, the winter's snow had almost completely melted away. Only small, muddy patches could be seen scattered on the sides of the road. Most of the village homes had their windows open in the breezy mild weather.

The horses screamed as they were rode hard down the tiny road, getting closer and closer by the second. Saliva and foam pouring from their mouths due to lack of rest and water.

Upon reaching the first house, a torch was pressed to its thatch roof, setting it ablaze in a matter of seconds.

People poured from their homes in panic, only to be met with the site of dozens of thundering wild horses carrying heavily armored riders. Children, who could not get out of the way, were trampled. Their injured screams echoed in the Spring sunshine.

The first wave of riders tore through the town. Lighting houses on fire and hollering in excitement to one another. Sick, twisted hoots of laughter mixed with screams of the innocent. They were the wild ones. Violent and cruel. The journey had made them high and drunk on the prospects of their reward.

Just a short distance behind them, was group of just over a dozen riders. Each wearing the same matching gilded armor and riding in perfect unison. Menacing helmets covered their heads and faces – keeping their identities secret. The crimson crest on their chest resembled the color of dried blood.

The False Prince's personal guards. Men so fiercely loyal to Theo's succession that it bordered on madness.

The town burned around them as they rode into the village. Silent as the grave. Flames gaining height and threatening to spread to the trees of the forest surrounding them.

Further down the road, away from the madness, stood a single rider who had led him there. He had been cleaned up and had on newer clothes. He had eaten well over the past few weeks. So, at least there was that to act as some kind of a reward. Taking the opportunity, he turned the fine palace horse away and fled the scene before anyone remembered that he was there.

The villagers were herded to the center of town. They watched their homes burn and stifled cries in their hearts.

A soulless, hardened palace guard held a village woman by her burning hair, rusty sword at her neck while she sobbed. Tears soaked in soot and blood streamed lines down her face. Her children screamed and reached for her as their father held them back.

"Where?" He bellowed to the crowd.

One word spoken. Everyone knew what it meant.

No one replied. Everyone was too caught up in the nightmare. So he killed her without a second thought.

The villagers cried out and huddled together tighter. Covering their faces from the violence and the thick smoke that coiled in the air as their village burned around them.

The guard snapped his fingers, and another villager was plucked from the herd and brought forward.

Tom held his petite wife tightly against his side. She wasn't crying yet. Neither of them were. Anger, regret, sadness, every frightening emotion pulled at their minds as they watched their friends get slaughtered. Tom kept avoiding sideways glances from the people surrounding him. He kept his back straight, eyes forward. Letting each death sink into his mind. This was it. Their lie was falling apart. They were about to loose everything.

A small sob made him look down for a moment.

"Head down. Don't look." He whispered low. He tried to keep his voice calm and soothing.

Because, huddled against his chest, was Marinette.

She had stayed later than usual in the village when Spring finally came. She was actually planning on leaving sometime this week to head back to her little home.

But now. Now they feared of losing her all together.

Marinette felt tears begin to fall down her cheeks as her face was pressed into her father's shirt. Her blood felt cold in her veins, even though her heart was beating impossibly fast. She sobbed along with everyone else. The horrors happening around them were terrifying. Were they all going to die like this?

Her fear made her heart cry out for someone. Not that it would make any difference. But she still couldn't help pining for him.

Through the sobs and screams, that haunting voice echoed in everyone's ears.

"Where?" the guard bellowed again.

Too which, no one responded. Yet again. A few mouths opened to speak. But closed again. People hugged each other trying to figure out what to do. Would they all die to protect one girl?

Another terrible wet-sounding noise, an audible thunk, followed by more screams and wails of those around them.

"I can do this all day…"

"We know one is here."

"I'll cut through every last one of you."

"We will find it. Or you can just give it up now."

An it. Already, she was an it. Not a person.

"Come out. Come out. Where ever you are."

"You can'ts be hidden 'em blue eyes forever."

Marinette's head snapped up suddenly. W-What did he say?

She turned her confused blue eyes up to her Father. "Papa…?" she whispered.

"Shh." He cut her off as he turned and held her face back down.

Marinette muffled shocked, inaudible words into her father's shirt. Her mind lit afire with questions.

"We just want them baby blues. Ya'll else can go on home."

"Quit holdin' back on us now."

Home? What home? They had destroyed everything. They had nothing now.

"A few gold to whoever gives it up. Come on now."

Marinette twisted her neck against her father's grip, enough to turn her mouth so she could speak softly.

"What are they talking about? Papa? Ma'man? What do they mean?" her voice was gaining volume with ever word.

Sabine put her hand tightly over Marinette's mouth. "Shush, dear. Everything will be alright." Sabine cooed to her daughter. But Marinette could see the tears in her eyes. What in the hell was going on?

Confusion that was mounting in her brain was quickly put on hold as a guard plucked another villager from the group. This time, it was a small child. The brave kid wasn't crying. But his eyes were huge and unblinking in fear as he stared at the bloody sword in front of him. Two other bodies lay at his feet, their blood was pooling in the mud.

His mother was screaming his name, pleading the guards for mercy. The whole dynamic of the situation shifted. Tom shut his eyes and clenched his jaw. Unconsciously, he hugged Marinette closer to his chest. He wasn't ready to give her up. He may never be ready.

Marinette couldn't take it any longer. She had no idea what was going on. She didn't know what these people wanted. She had blue eyes. Whatever that meant. She shoved her fists into her father's chest and pulled away. "They're going to kill him!" she cried out.

"Marinette, no!" Her mother cried out.

Tom reached out to grab her arm and hold her back, but he missed her by centimeters. His fingers swiped at the empty air as he watched the back of his precious daughter's head disappear through the crowd.

Marinette pushed her way through the villagers that seemed to have surrounded them. Many looked startled and surprised to see her pushing forward. Although, beneath that, there was also faces flashing looks of relief mixed with sadness.

"Stop! No!" Tom yelled.

"Marinette don't!" Sabine screamed.

Marinette had to ignore them. Whatever this was. She could stop it. They wanted her. She wasn't going to let anyone else get killed. Let alone someone with his whole life still to live.

"Take me!" She screamed out loud as she broke through the crowd. Her hands were balled into fists as she took another few steps forward.

"I have what you want. Take me instead." She echoed

"Marinette!" her father cried out to her. But his voice seemed so far away as she stood face to face with these heartless men.

The man holding the child released his grip instantaneously. The child scooted away and then, eventually, ran back to his mother. Marinette could hear their heartfelt reunion behind her, but she still didn't move.

All the men were suddenly frozen, staring at her like they were seeing through her. Like she wasn't even real. A few made audible sexual sneers. But most looked dumbfounded. At least two fell to their knees looking like they had just been struck by a God.

She couldn't quite read anyone's expressions. She'd seen this only once or twice before. It was the strangest of standoffs. No one quite knew what the other was about to do. After a few moments, they began to glance back and forth at one another. Talking in low voices and pointing.

Marinette heard her father call her name again. This time, she turned and looked back at him.

And she will never forget that look on his face. Never.

"Run!" he bellowed. "Run away now!"

It didn't do any good to warn her. There wasn't even any time or place to run now. Because, when she turned back forward, she had a wall of guards gazing down at her. Their eyes burning with satisfaction.

A metal hand wrapped itself in her hair and yanked her face painfully up to his. He stared at her practically nose to nose for a few seconds before he let out a noise that sounded like a cry of a wild animal.

And then, everyone began to grab for her.

Despite their specific orders not to do her harm, the guards took advantage of their spoils. They fondled her body and tore at her clothes to touch her bare skin. Many punching and kicking at one another to get a chance to touch her. She was, after all, still an attractive young woman. Her rare eyes only made her all the more desirable.

Marinette fought with all her might. Kicking and clawing continuously at the ravenous men. But they held her fast. Too many hands to fight off. They dragged her, kicking and screaming away from the village and away from her family and friends.

Another rough hand in her hair yanked her neck upwards and into a rough, dry kiss. Hot tongue pushed through her lips and tried to eat her mouth. Before she could bite down, her head was ripped away and she was eye to eye with another man who also tried to kiss her but was unsuccessful before her face was torn away again.

To even repeat the names she was being called. Or to try and explain how disgusting each voice spoke to her. It bares not worth repeating.

Fingernails dug into her skin, creating half moon marks that filed slowly with blood before a stray, wet tongue licked it away.

Out of the corner of her eyes, she saw her Father, Mother and a few others from the village fighting against the wall of armored guards.

Her Father was being held down by what looked like ten men. His face was pushed against the ground, but still he shouted out his daughter. His booming voice shaking the very ground, but absolutely boneless with sorrow. And yet, above his shouts, she could clearly hear her mother wail out her name with tears streaming down her face.

She reached for him. Shrieking in terror. She could barely see them beyond the mass of bodies surrounding her.

Finally, the more loyal of the royal guards pushed their way through the others, and dragged her out of the chaos. Beating back and wounding their own comrades in the process. A bag was thrown over her head. Her arms were forced behind her back. Her legs were bound and she was lifted up off of the ground.

No longer in control of where she went or what she saw, Marinette could only listen to the horrors surrounding her.

She felt herself get manipulated and put on the back of a horse. She had never ridden a horse before and the animal was hot to sit on. She squeezed her legs together in the saddle to avoid falling off. Her hands were stretched out in front of her and, presumably, tied to the saddle. With a shout among the men the horse instantly began to move.

With every galloping step, she felt like she was about to fall off. More horses moved around her. Their hoof beats like a steady, constant roar. But the sound blocked out the screams behind her. Soon, she couldn't even smell the smoke anymore.

"Where are you taking me?" she yelled to anyone who would listen. But no one responded.

Angry, she kept repeating herself over and over again. But the stoic guards said nothing to her.

She pleaded with them. Beseeching for sympathy. Hoping one of them would be merciful. Surely one of them would possess a bit of kindness in their heart? And yet, her words fell on uncaring ears. These men were too brainwashed to follow their orders. Fear drove them to return to their leader with the prize he requested.

They rode in complete silence for some time. Only one or two distinct voices spoke at all. And their conversations were brief and hard to hear in between the horses pounding hooves. She caught specific words, like "Prince" and "Theo" being repeatedly used in describing someone. Was this the same prince that Adrien talked about? The False Prince that the Opposition fought against?

The little bit of light that managed to penetrate the fabric bag around her head, showed that the daylight was quickly fading away. How had the hours slipped by so quickly? She barely had a concept of time.

When the horse finally stopped, it was dark. She tried to sit up in the saddle, glancing around as if she could see anything familiar through the fabric of the bag.

After a short while, she was awkwardly brought down off the horse, and the bag was removed. She blinked several times and peered through her mass of unbound and wild hair, which seemed to be permanently plastered with sweat and dirt across her face. Glancing around frantically, she counted at least a dozen guards setting up a small camp for the night. A few tended to horses, while others started numerous small cook fires.

The guard who was with her reached down and unbound her feet. His touch was surprisingly mild compared to what she had previously been through. And he made no move to touch her other than what he needed to do. It was for that reason that she did not kick him in the groin and attempt to escape. Never mind the fact that she probably wouldn't get far. And he was wearing heavy plate armor that would probably crack every bone in her leg should she hit it.

Hands still bound, she was led over and was forced onto her knees to sit beside one of the small fires. The rope was tied tightly to a stake driven deep into the ground.

"Where are you taking me?" she asked to the guard while being tied up. "What is going on?" The guard did not speak a word to her.

Marinette dropped her voice low, pleading with him now. "Please, why won't you talk to me?" Hoping that she could get this man to admit something to her.

"Please…" she begged gently.

He looked up, and, for a moment, their eyes met. It was in that brief moment that something in his face shifted. The stoic mask slipping ever so slightly.

He opened his mouth wide and turned his head into the firelight so she could see. Marinette faintly gasped in horror at the sight.

His tongue had been completely cut out.

At a much later date, Marinette would learn that this was how Theo earned the blind loyalty of his personal guard. Those who talked back or questioned him, lost their right to speak forever. That fear drove them into complete submission. Because any further acts of defiance only led to an immediate death sentence.

* * *

The night was unseasonably cold. Nino whipped his horse harder, urging it to run faster. Despite the cold, the horse was caked in sweat from the speeds it was forced to run.

Once Theo had dispatched his personal guard, Nino knew that they would not come back empty handed. If they did, they would be dead men for disappointing Theo. He watched as that crazy, blabber-mouth, heartless shell of a man mounted one of the palace horses and lead the charge.

Nino prayed to whatever gods were listening that they wouldn't find her. Hell, her house was so deep in the forest, he was certain that Plagg had made a mistake when they first turned off the main road. But Plagg had a sixth sense about those kinds of things. Especially when it came to tracking. Or finding Adrien for that matter.

Still, it was a long shot to hope that they would not find her. Let alone what they would do to her once they did.

He held his position and stayed in the Palace, playing his instruments to entertain the Prince's Court on a nightly basis. No use abandoning his mission just yet. Especially when the days ticked by, and then a few weeks after that. Nino started to relax. They probably had failed. Although, Theo was noticeably consistently absent from Court.

Nino could only listen to the ladies gossip as to what was potentially going on. Too many rumors, it was hard to deduce the truth.

When the messenger arrived at the Palace in the middle of the night, you could hear the joyous holler from Theo ring out and echo through the halls.

It was only a matter of hours, and the gossip reached Nino's ears. She had been found. And she was being taken straight here. Only a few days out by now. The messenger had ridden ahead to take the news directly to Theo himself.

Nino pondered what his next move should be. There was little he could do for her once she was sealed inside the palace. There were places even he had never been allowed to go. So many unknown and locked doors that she could be hidden behind. He'd have to get some kind of a message to Adrien immediately, if they were going to try and intercept the guards before they reached the palace. But, there was no one to entrust a message with. He was alone in the heart of the enemy.

He was a few days ride from the Agreste estate, where Adrien was probably still residing if he hadn't gone back to the Opposition yet. If he had, then that would be another few days to reach the main outpost.

To many questions. To many what-ifs. To many ways for this to go disastrously wrong. As if it wasn't wrong enough.

Truth be told, was there even enough time for Adrien to reach her before they reached the palace? What roads were they taking? How many guards were escorting her here? It would be suicide to intercept without knowing what they were up against. The royal guard would surely kill anyone that got even close to her now. Especially if Theo had sent out reinforcements.

Either way, Nino made the decision to tell Adrien. But a letter wouldn't do. He'd have to tell him in person. That meant leaving his double-agent gig in the False Prince's Palace and coming up with a believable excuse as to why he was leaving so suddenly. And, hopefully, get an invitation to return.

Turns out, leaving had been surprisingly easy. The False Prince's court was divided as gossip of an incoming blue-eyed person was whispered in the halls and behind closed doors. Especially from the many ladies of the court, many of whom earned their places there with their looks, status, and hints of blue in their own eyes (although how fake it was). In fact, the palace was in complete overhaul in preparations and increased security.

Nino found the perfect opportunity to slip out before the security became too ridiculous. No one paid him any mind. They simply had one less musician at Court. Hardly noticeable.

He rode for many days, stopping to eat and briefly rest before continuing on. The Agreste estate and lands were situated at the edge of an extremely strategic location for the Opposition. While the lands themselves had not seen any direct battles, however, its position allowed access to a navigable river for trade and supplies. Adrien's father, the Duke Gabriel Agreste, owned hundreds of acres of land along both sides of the river. It was a combination of the Duke's and his late wife's family's estate. The lands belonged solely to the Agreste family. As royal documents, signed and sealed by the first monarchy, prevented any others from laying claim to them.

That is, of course, if the formal traditions, laws and customs of the original monarchy were followed. And so long as the lands weren't suddenly violently seized up by some child-tyrant playing Prince.

While the Duke had shown extreme disinterest in contributing to either side when the war first broke out, he was, above all else, a man of tradition, culture and respect. And to watch someone so blatantly disregard traditions or honor, did not sit well with him. So he had sided with the Opposition.

Nino felt much more relaxed as he put the False Prince's palace farther and farther behind him. It took him several days to reach the Agreste lands, and he made haste for the estate itself.

Watching the significant stone estate came into view in the distance, he suddenly felt anxious. Anxious because Adrien was his lord, but also his friend. The news would crush him. He made past the lavish gardens and through the high gates.

Nino pulled back his hood just enough so that his face was visible to the nearby servants and guards – who recognized him instantly.

"The Young Lord Agreste." Nino called sharply to the closest man. "Is he here?"

"His chambers, sir. Not be disturbed." The guard answered hesitantly, it was the middle of the night after all.

Nino huffed and dismounted from his horse in an awkward struggle of heavy clothing and a tangled cloak. "I bring urgent news. Wake him immediately."

The guard's face darkened. "I'm under orders not to disturb him for any reason."

Oh, he's going to be disturbed. The news couldn't wait.

"I understand you have your orders, but I must speak with him. Tonight. It cannot wait."

Their raised voices were drawing a crowd to them, and Nino quickly searched their faces for someone who could back him up.

As if he had summoned him, Plagg materialized from a dark hallway. The torch light played with the sharp angles of his cheekbones – making him appear older than Nino thought he really was. Although, he had never really asked. Wherever Adrien was, Plagg was never far from him. It only made sense that he would be here.

As Plagg walked forward, guards let him pass. Than man exuded a dark aura about him. People always gave him room.

Nino and he had never been friends. Plagg was more of a bodyguard than a friend. Nino was pretty sure Plagg hated him because he rarely, if ever, spoke. Nino was also fairly positive that the man thought him weak and pathetic. Nino was squishy but formally educated. Plagg was hardened and distant but dedicated to the House of Agreste, and especially to Adrien.

"Plagg!" Nino called to him as he approached closer. "Tell them that…"

Plagg grabbed him by the upper arm and dragged him away from the crowd. The man's grip was like steel and Nino had no choice but get pulled away.

Once they were isolated alone and out of earshot of the other guards, Plagg let Nino go. Nino's arm still hurt from where he grabbed him.

"What do you hope to accomplish by telling him this?" Plagg asked darkly.

Nino was caught off guard. How had Plagg learned about this already? Surely news could not have traveled quicker than he had.

Nino opened his mouth to ask how he knew, but Plagg interrupted him by continuing. "How do you think he will react?"

Narrowing his eyes and lowering his voice, he added further, "What do you think he'll do?"

Nino struggled to find his voice. The loaded questions making him feel foolish. But he stuck to his intentions, despite the shaking of his voice.

"I-I don't know. B-But he deserves to know."

Plagg crossed his arms over his chest. "I disagree."

Nino wasn't backing down. "You do realize he will eventually find out. News is already spreading across the lands of her discovery. It's only a matter of time."

Plagg just stared at him with hard eyes. Nino had to look away. He gripped his hands into fists and spoke bravely.

"I'd rather him hear it from a friend. That girl saved his life. The two of them, they are connected… in some way. I truly think he really cares about her. Even though he won't admit it."

Plagg sighed heavily. "He will blame himself." Plagg told him, his voice actually sounded very sad. "You do realize that, don't you?"

Nino unclenched his fists, hearing the compassion in the older man's voice made the situation suddenly less tense. "I know he will. Adrien's too kind in that way."

The two men stayed silent for a few moments weighing out the situation. Nino kept wondering if Plagg would try and stop him. He honestly wouldn't blame him if he did.

Finally, it was Plagg who broke the silence first.

"I can't watch this." Plagg told Nino, his voice low and terribly sad. As an additional surprise, he put a hand on Nino's shoulder. "You're a good friend." He added gently.

The gesture shocked Nino to his core. This was the longest he and Plagg had ever spoken, let alone have any kind of a heart-to-heart conversation. He hoped that things would be different now between the two of them. And yet, why did it feel like Plagg was saying goodbye?

Nino respectfully bowed to the older man before turned away and headed further into the estate. Plagg didn't follow him. In fact, when Nino looked over his shoulder, the man was gone.

Nino reached the staircase and took the steps three at a time. He all but ran down the long corridors, franticly remembering which room was Adrien's. The estate was huge and laid out like a puzzle.

He took about three wrong turns and had to back track. Running now, he felt the urgency of the matter creeping up the back of his neck. He doubled back, and started over. Finally, a hallway seemed familiar, and then, a door he recognized.

He burst through the doors, not bothering to knock. Adrien would have to forgive his rudeness later. Gasping for air and gripping his heart for fear it would burst from his chest, he leaned over the back of a nearby chair. His glasses nearly falling from his face as their lenses were fogged.

"S-S-Sire…" he huffed, trying to catch his breath and talk at the same time.

Adrien barely recognized Nino as he came crashing through the large doors, as he was covered in a heavy cloak that wrapped around his body and covered his head. However, even through Nino's labored breathing, he couldn't mistake his deep voice.

Adrien got up from his desk and started towards his friend. "Nino, what in God's name are you…"

"Girl!… the girl…" Nino huffed.

"Girl? What girl?" Adrien questioned, standing beside him now and putting a cautious hand on his friend's shoulder.

Nino took a deep breath through his nose and let it out slowly. He gripped the back of the chair and hunched over to try and steady his breathing. His throat was raw and he could barely swallow.

"Nino, what is going…?"

"The girl! The girl in the forest!" Nino exclaimed wildly.

Adrien's eyes widened and his hand dropped from Nino's shoulder. He took a step back as if he had been struck. In fact, it felt like he had.

"W-What…?" he whispered. Hoping it was some kind of a joke. The next words to leave Nino's mouth would surely be his undoing.

"They got her, Sire." Nino told him gently, his head rising up from the floor to look Adrien in the face. The sad news leaving his lips like a guilty confession.

"No…" Adrien breathed. He didn't want to hear this. His chest burned in sudden pain. The room felt like it was spinning.

Nino nodded his head slowly. He watched his Lord's face collapse. He knew the news was killing him.

"W-When?" Adrien mumbled. "I mean, how? How?"

He couldn't form rational questions. He felt like he was just babbling one-word questions because his heart was riddled with emotion. And then the real question popped into his head.

"Who?" Adrien mumbled, his voice dark. "Who found her?"

Nino stood up a bit straighter. "The royal guard… to the False Prince... It's…Theo."

Adrien took another step back, as the words struck him like a punch to the gut. His heart was being torn in a thousand directions. Anger, fear, guilt. It was eating all at him. Damn Theo. Damn that man to Hell.

Nino kept talking, but Adrien wasn't really hearing him anymore. He felt like a piece of him was dying. This was his fault. Someone had seen her. Someone had convinced Theo of her existence.

"… Reports are flooding in about finding a raven haired…"

He had betrayed her. Betrayed her family. Oh Gods, her family. Tom. Sabine. They would be devastated. Could they even be hurt?

"… blue eyed girl..."

He hated himself for not protecting her. He should have brought her with him. He shouldn't have left her in the forest alone. His fingers curling into fists with every thought. There was nothing he could do. And he hated himself for it.

And for Theo of all people to find her. The person he hated more than anyone. The man basking in a limelight of lies and deception.

"… from the forest."

Adrien grabbed onto the nearest piece of furniture and threw it in a blind rage. It collided against the nearest wall, splintering the thick wood and the noise echoed along the thick stone walls.

This was his doing. This was all his fault.

* * *

(A/N: Ugh, that was tough to write. Not gonna lie. Anywho, thanks for sticking with me through it. Much love to you all!)


	11. Chapter 11

\- Chapter 11 -

Marinette was done crying. There was no time to cry. They were traveling too quickly.

She wanted so desperately to adjust her clothes. She could feel little jets of cold air hitting her bare skin. She knew certain parts of her body were exposed for all to see, and that made her uncomfortable.

Why was this happening to her? What had she done wrong?

When they stopped traveling by horseback, Marinette was forced into the back of a small carriage being led by a team of horses.

For the next few days, she pretty much lived in the small space. Although, it did allow her a bit of personal privacy. Even with her hands bound, she was able to twist and manipulate and pull the bag off her head, and adjust her shredded clothing to at least modestly cover herself up.

The carriage had nowhere to sit, so she sat and lay on the floor. Sleeping was almost impossible as the carriage shook and rocked constantly with the high speeds of the horses.

She was given water. But she was too afraid to eat anything else offered. Her stomach was twisted in knots of dread.

Although, she had to continuously swallow down her fear every time the carriage doors opened and a new guard would gaze at her like she was some piece of meat.

"Ooo, a virgin…"

"Never felt the touch of a man…"

Real fear kept bubbling back up every time a rough hand would drag across her bare skin. Lingering on her breasts and her upper thighs. She couldn't help but whimper at every stray touch. At every sexual grunt or moan that came from their lips when they touched her so casually. Even though most these men did not speak, their eyes flashed with such a lustful intent. Those that could speak, told her of the things they wanted to do to her. Unspeakable things. Things that made her blood run cold in her veins.

It kept her in constant fear that they would act upon their threats. And she would be powerless to stop them. Perhaps her only saving grace was that the guards turned on one another very easily – getting into fights and disagreeing on who got to touch her more.

She cried a bit now. Crying made the time go by fast. And block out the sounds of their voices.

They kept repeatedly saying things like: She was one of them. One of who? Who was she?

She asked them to explain themselves. But they only laughed at her. Told her that she knew. Said she would find out soon enough.

She asked if it was because of her eyes. And the jeering only continued. Somehow, she knew that was the reason. But, why? Why did her eye color matter to them? Why did it matter at all?

The concept of time seemed to disappear. She only heard the carriage wheels clicking and spinning as they carried her god knows where. Fast. They traveled so fast. Barely stopping at all to switch out fresh horses and repair the little carriage.

She watched the world disappear through the small cracks in the carriage walls. Unable to decipher any landmarks as traveled. This wasn't how she wanted to see the world. Not as a prisoner to these awful men.

Somehow, she slept. Exhaustion eating at her until she couldn't keep from passing out. When she awoke, the carriage was still moving at intensely high speeds. Although, it shook and rocked less. The roads they now traveled on were of a much better quality.

"Get out of the way!" the guards yelled.

"Move!"

Marinette crawled to her knees in the rocking carriage. She could see numerous roofs to buildings very densely packed together as they raced by. The horses hooves thundered on cobblestone streets now.

She could hear the sounds of people hollering as they rode by. The sounds of other horses neighing and dogs barking. People. She could clearly make out people standing on the streets. Their blurry forms rushing by so fast she couldn't even make out their faces.

However, that did not stop her from calling out to them for help. Not that there was much they could do for her.

"In the name of the Prince, stand aside!"

"Move away."

Commotion. A lot of commotion. Shouts and yells enveloped and surrounded them. Horses screamed and neighed. Their metal shoes so impossibly loud against the cobblestones. People were talking all at once. Something was about to happen. Something told her that her journey was at its end.

When the carriage finally stopped, she let out a breath she hadn't remembered holding. Heavy boots and shouts could be heart all around her. She scrambled to the very back of the carriage and tried to make herself look small.

Once the latches began to unlock, her body starting shaking. When the carriage doors opened and the guards grabbed for her, she screamed and didn't stop screaming. They dragged her out against her will and secured the bag over her head once again. This one was of a much thicker fabric. And she couldn't see a thing.

Her feet didn't touch the ground as they moved. Fingers gripped her skin so hard that she was certain she'd have bruises.

She begged them to let her go. Pleaded again for help.

The noises around her were impossible to decipher. Everything sounded so echoed. Was she inside? Outside? She kept turning her head, trying to hear something familiar. Something that would give her a possible clue as to where she was.

Her body was twisted and manipulated up what felt like stairs or a ramp. They paused and a strange metallic noise creaked for several seconds. Then they started moving again. The air turned colder. Or, at least, it felt colder somehow.

And then, they let her go.

Marinette's bare knees collapsed against the floor. Even though she couldn't see. She could feel the rich carpeted flooring beneath her knees. Carpet? How was that possible? Where was she?

"Leave us!" a voice bellowed from in front of her. She lifted her head towards the sound of that voice.

Whoever it was that spoke, the heavy-footed soldiers who dragged her in there obeyed his words.

She could feel some someone's presence come closer to her. She flinched when his fingers grazed her bare shoulder.

Slowly the bag was lifted from her head. She briefly saw a person in front of her before the brightness of the room made her wince. The room was lit with so many candles that it was practically daylight. They dripped piles of wax from long stemmed candelabras and sconces. She blinked her eyes against the sudden brightness.

A silk, gloved hand reached out and grabbed her chin. Forcing her face upwards. She winced in the sharp, abrupt pain.

"No. No. Open them for me." The man hissed.

Marinette slowly opened her eyes and was met with a pair of sinister looking brown eyes. The young man's face close enough to her own that their noses were practically touching. He breathed hot, labored breaths into her face while he stared at her.

She tried to pull her face out of his hand, but his grip on her chin tightened.

"Don't look away from me." He hissed in a voice that almost sounded like a spoiled child-like whine.

The whining tone of his voice was so bizarre. It did not fit a man of his age to whine like some kid.

Marinette stared at him, getting a good look at his face now. He was perhaps a year or so older than her, but his face looked young, hollowed and pale – like he had never been outside in his entire life. His hair was well groomed and styled, not a strand was out of place. It was all too pristine and perfect. Which made him feel all the more dangerous.

His clothing was custom and tailored to his build. The fabric was richly pattered, with hints of lace and the cuffs.

A few stray fingers began to busy themselves in her hair, sweeping it from her face. His face twisted slightly, as if he didn't like how dirty or messy it felt. However, it didn't stop him from tracing her cheekbone and finally cracking a devilish smile of immense satisfaction.

Giddy now. He flashed a mouthful of pristine white teeth.

"Oh, my jewel. You are mine now."

* * *

Adrien made his preparations to return to the Opposition outpost, despite his Father's immense disapproval.

However, the Duke's estate was suffocating him. The guilt and pain eating at him so badly that he barely slept three maybe four hours a night. Adrien racked his brain with options. Anything that might help him get to her.

Nino and Kim watched their young master pace his office like a trapped animal in a cage. They had been sitting there for the better part of the afternoon watching and trying to participate in the conversations that Adrien seemed to be having with himself.

"What if…? No… that won't work… But what if we… ugh! No. Damnit!"

Nino and Kim exchanged glances with one another. Their friend, as much as they didn't want to admit it, was going slightly mad.

"Cut off all supplies to the Palace… impose a blockade on the river that will surely force them to go into the Summer palace… from there we can ambush them on the road and then…"

"Sire… I think…" Nino interjected. But Adrien didn't hear him.

"No… No, that's stupid. It will never work. Gah! I'm such a fucking idiot."

"Sire…" Kim tried.

Adrien's head snapped up from the floor, noticing the two men sitting in the room for perhaps the first time. "Kim, what are our numbers looking like?"

Kim swallowed, "T-Thirty men and arms… That is, if your Father will allow…"

Adrien's face darkened and Kim stopped talking. "I will talk with my Father, if that is what you are inferring."

"I am just concerned…" Kim started to say.

Nino jumped in. "Adrien. Please, listen to yourself. You are…"

Adrien snapped his head in Nino's direction, glaring at him now. "What? What do I sound like? Huh? Tell me!"

Nino looked away, unable to tell his friend what he truly thought.

Adrien wasn't done. "What are you even doing here? Shouldn't you be back at the Palace by now? Your mission is critical to our success."

"You summoned me to stay, Sire." Nino squeaked out.

"Well… Well, now I'm summoning you to go!" Adrien countered, sitting down at his desk and began frantically writing something down. "Both of you. Go."

Nino and Kim exchanged another look before standing up in preparation to leave. They hated seeing him like this. He was obsessing.

"Send Plagg in, when you leave." Adrien remarked as his quill flew over the parchment in front of him.

"Adrien, no one has seen Plagg in weeks." Kim told him.

Adrien audibly slapped his quill down and stood up again. "What do you mean no one has seen him in weeks?" He repeated. "Where is he?"

"We thought you knew?" Kim responded.

"Of course I didn't know! Why didn't you tell me?" Adrien demanded. "Plagg wouldn't just abandon me. Where did he go?"

"No one knows, Sire." Nino spoke up.

Adrien sunk back down in his chair, feeling suddenly defeated. He looked down at the numerous notes he had written down and subsequently scratched out. Every plan he had tried to come up with since he learned about Marinette's capture. Every one doomed to fail. He knew that.

She was lost to him. Completely and utterly lost.

He let out a heavy sigh, and hung his head in his hands. Hopeless, everything felt hopeless. But he wasn't willing to give up trying. Not yet.

"We need a plan." He muttered to himself. He looked over at his friends standing by the door. "Guys, we need a plan. Please… I can't do this on my own…"

Reluctantly, Nino and Kim walked and sat back down in their original places. This was not going to be easy. And the one person who could talk some sense into Adrien was gone.

After days of deliberation with his colleagues, Adrien knew the only way he would have a chance at rescuing her was if the Opposition kept the pressure on the False Prince's army. That was why they were fighting in the bloody War to begin with. To hopefully de-throne that horrible man.

When he finally had convinced his Father to let him leave, Adrien rode quickly for the nearest outpost. Although, he did so alone. Perhaps his men would catch up to him later. But he couldn't wait any longer. The Opposition was probably mounting an immediate counter-attack, and he wanted, no, he needed to be apart of it. Every victory would be one step closer to her.

He prayed with every fiber of his being that she was okay.

Once he returned to the Opposition, no one seemed to be in a big hurry. In fact, there was no sense of urgency whatsoever. Morale was low. And the faction was almost to the point of dissolving completely. The leadership was still slowly returning and no one had any leads.

Adrien spent his time engaging with his fellow men. Keeping their spirits up. Hoping that Scouts would arrive with a strong lead for them to follow through on. It helped keep him focused and occupied his mind for the time being.

Except when, he overheard the whispered conversations of men and women talking about the discovery of a blue-eyed girl.

"One of the prettiest specimens to be found in decades."

"Oh man, I thought they were all dead?"

"Wouldn't I love to get hands on her."

"A woman of ripe breeding age."

"A fine piece of ass, from what the rumors say."

"Aww, shit, probably just another fake. No one's that lucky."

The words they used to describe her poisoned his mind. It made the blood boil in his veins. They didn't even know her name. They didn't even care.

The more he overheard, the more he hated himself. The guilt ate him alive both day and night. He couldn't sleep, he barely ate. His fault. His fault. All his fault.

* * *

A/N: Apologies about the short chapter. I should have the next one up soon though! Just putting the finishing touches on it. Hope everyone is doing great. As always, thank you for reading.


	12. Chapter 12

*Warning* This chapter contains imagery of depression and self-harm.

\- Chapter 12 -

Theo never asked her name. He didn't care. To him, she wasn't a person. Just a thing. A blue-eyed pretty play thing for his amusement. And, oh, how amused he was by her. Infatuated to the point of obsessing over every little breath she took; or which way her blue gaze faced when it wasn't looking at him; what clothes she wore to accentuate those eyes; what foods she ate to keep her body healthy and ripe.

Born of a lower class, she would never be his Queen. Her pedigree would not allow it. Besides, Theo had a bride-to-be. Although, he thought very little of that woman, now that he had his prize Jewel.

However, that did not stop Theo from manipulating the law and keeping Marinette at his side with a bestowed official title of Royal Concubine. She now held certain rights with that title. She had handmaidens to bathe her, and decorate her body to Theo's liking. She had an elaborate private chamber in the highest tower of the Palace. She was allowed delicacies that she had never known existed before. Riches and luxuries befitting a Queen.

And that so angered Theo's bride-to-be. The woman wore a permanent, green scowl on her face. And made it her personal mission to make Marinette's already miserable life, even more miserable.

She rallied the ladies of court together against her. Knowing just when Theo's eyes were averted so they could kick or lash out at Marinette in a jealous fit. For too long, they had been Theo's favorite. Their beauty, or attempts at beauty, earning them comfy lifestyles in Theo's court. But now, they were cast aside. Grasping at anything to maintain in the False Prince's favor. For fear of getting sent away from this lifestyle they had grown to enjoy so much.

Perhaps what hurt worse than their high-heeled toe stomps or casual shoves into walls, was the fact that their jealousy turned their words sour and bitter. They spit whispered insults and jeers in passing. Theo's bride-to-be, Chloe, being the absolute worst. She had a particularly quick and foul tongue. She loved to tease of a daring, fantastic rescue attempt. Or sneer about another Price claiming to have bought her from Theo. Filling Marinette's head with fantasies of escape or freedom. Even her steely, grey gaze was enough to make Marinette's stomach drop.

She felt surrounded by enemies. Not a soul cared about her well-being. As the weeks slipped by, her screams and cries for help no longer turned heads or invoked gasps. People stared through her now. When she was allowed out and about in the Palace, Theo insisted that she wore a veil of gauzy material over her eyes and half her face. A veil concealing the person underneath. Hiding those features just enough to invoke an aura of mystery to the palace guards, court ladies, servants or anyone that caught a rare passing glance. However, most Palace guests and residents quickly learned to keep their eyes averted to her – or fear the wrath of Theo should they be caught ogling at his possession. Theo's Jewel, as she was so aptly referred to, remained exclusive to only his eyes to behold without it.

Some began to secretly doubt her existence. Calling the False Prince a liar and a fraud. Nevertheless, Theo and his army of loyal, bloodthirsty soldiers were quick to remind them that she was very much real. And very much his. And his alone.

He would let the world catch glimpses of her. Her long dark hair and naturally pale skin acting together to accentuate those awe-inspiring blue eyes. It was enough to drop even the most disbelieving individuals to their knees and beg for Theo's forgiveness.

Much like her eyes, her beauty became a legend in itself. Rumors spread in all directions of the blue-eyed woman locked away in the old royal palace.

Theo kept her dressed like a living doll. Choosing fabrics and gowns that complimented her blue eyes. Whatever silky fabrics her clothes were made of or exotic foods she was eating, Marinette was still nothing but a slave to the Prince's fantasies. She was taught to behave in a manner befitting a caged exotic bird. Beautiful to behold, but never to touch.

She was locked away from sight. Beautiful things kept locked away only tend to get more beautiful. Marinette never thought of herself as beautiful. She merely existed now. A living, breathing play-thing for the Prince to parade around. A prisoner.

She was trained to be the perfect companion for the Prince. To cater to his ever whim and desire. Never allowed to speak unless spoken to. Only to be seen and presented as an offering.

He would visit her chambers at all hours. Doing unspeakable things to her body. Theo loved to force her blue eyes wide open as her pretty mouth and lips were forcefully dragged up and down the length of his excited erection. She was his possession.

As the months passed agonizingly slow, Marinette's sunny and warm disposition became clouded. She was captive. A slave to Theo's desires and wills.

She tried many times to escape. Bed sheets tied together and tearing her expensive clothes to ribbons in order to make enough rope to climb out a window and scale down an exterior wall.

However, it was impossible to hide or run. Every loyal guard knew her face and her eyes.

Theo enjoyed her little bouts of feistiness when she tried to run from him. It made her eyes look even more alive. He liked breaking her down repeatedly only to watch her fight harder next time. It kept him sharp, but also allowed him to work for his prize.

Although, as even more endless months ticked by, her fighting spirit twisted itself to self harm. Her mind completely broken and lost, her heart turned to stone.

In her sadness, she refused to eat and drink altogether. Losing weight and muscle at a rapid pace. So liquids were forced down her throat. What little food she was forced to consume, kept her alive. Although, it was not enough. Her pale skin was soon stretched tight across her bones.

She was losing herself. Forgetting the person she once was. Happiness was a thing of the past. She never smiled anymore. She felt less and less like a person, more like an object. Just a human shell serving as a vessel for her blue eyes.

She sought out ways to end her own life or, at least, gouge out her cursed blue eyes.

Soon, she wasn't allowed hairpins or knives with meals. Her fingernails were cut short and her hands constantly covered with soft gloves.

Her beautiful raven hair thinned. Clothes seemed to fall off her body when she wore them. She slept all the time. Having no concept of day or night. She hated life. Hated the world and everyone in it. Nothing felt real.

Upon seeing his prize withering away, Theo would scream at her. Then, he would cuddle her thinning body. Then, he'd hit her. And then, try to kiss her. Attempting to make that feisty girl come back. Fearful that he could not keep his Jewel alive. If she died, then he wouldn't own her anymore. The only thing that brought him any pleasure in this world.

This state of mind lingered for a long time. Tormenting her from the inside out.

She was so lost. So tired. And so without a purpose. Wishing for death every time she closed her eyes. And yet, waking only to her own personal version on Hell every day.

Why was this happening to her? Why was life so cruel?

It was so hard to breathe. Sometimes she held her breath in order to feel alive when she had to finally come up and gasp for air.

Panting, she lay sprawled against the sea of pillows that made up her bed. The actual furniture and bedding had been removed a long time ago. Back when she used to try and escape this nightmare. Back when she felt like she had any inner strength to go on.

Staring into the dark room she ran her gloved hands along her protruding hipbones, feeling her thin frame beneath her fingers. When had this happened? When had she become like this? Her body felt alien. Disgusting and ugly. And yet, still, none of this affected the pull of her eyes on everyone's minds. How much longer could she possibly go on?

There would never be any relief. She'd never be free. Theo would never allow even Death to take her away from him. She sobbed without tears and hugged her dying body tightly.

* * *

Adrien slammed his fist into the wooden table. Making the maps and cartography measuring devices quaking under the force.

"That's not good enough!" he roared into the room.

Everyone stopped and stared at the young man who had uncharacteristically burst out like that.

"Young lord, need I remind you of your place on this Council. Your Father would be…"

"I don't care what my Father thinks!" Adrien roared. "I grow weary of your constant excuses and inability to make haste."

A few audible gasps could be heard.

"Young lord!

It had been a year already. A year. Long, tireless and suffocating twelve months without any headway. The Opposition's army was lacking valuable resources and not making any significant gains against the enemy. They were no closer to Theo's palace. In fact, they weren't close at all. It was laughable.

Adrien had sat through countless meetings, talking of unsubstantiated nonsense. Debating weak and pathetic strategies to gain a foothold somewhere in this pathetic game of cat and mouse.

Marinette was suffering. And he had no way of reaching her. Hell, he was merely guessing that she was even still in the Palace. Theo could have moved her anywhere by now. She could be continents away from him. He had hoped that the Opposition would be his ticket to breaking down Theo's gate. But clearly, from the months of rubbish and obvious incompetence, he was no closer to her.

In fact, the thought of reaching her seemed to be impossible at this point.

But that's just what it was like in the Endless War, forever endless. It was always one more battle, one more skirmish to maybe turn the tides in their favor. Pointless and stupid.

"Young lord, wars are not won overnight. Please take your seat."

Adrien had had enough. Frustrated with the Council and their lack luster approach to taking the necessary course of action.

As he exited the room, he could hear the whispers follow him out.

"Lost his mind, he has…"

"Those eyes made him crazy..."

"He's obsessed…"

"…possessing them for himself."

"… pompous…"

"… arrogant…"

The eyes. Always the eyes. Never the girl. Never the innocent girl whose fate he cursed.

It was old news by now that Adrien had been the one to discover her. But the rumors never stopped circulating: that he got a huge reward for finding her, or that he was a supposed spy for the False Prince, or that he tried to hide her for himself, but got caught.

All lies. Filthy lies that made Adrien burn with anger. He had been caught up in a few antagonized fistfights over these preposterous rumors. The fights did nothing but circulate even more rumors about him, and cause him to loose face in front of his men. He knew that. He knew he had be better than this. But, in the moment, punching something had certainly felt good. And it eased the ache in his heart.

The words being whispered as he left the council room swirled around his head. This has been his life for over a year. It was enough to make him doubt himself, and what his own intentions were.

He needed air. The aging concrete walls of this small Opposition controlled fortress were suffocating him. He made for the outside, weaving his way though the halls and out the main gates. Guards called after him, but he ignored them.

The old fortress was built next to a swampy marsh. Full of low lying water, water logged trees, and a plethora of biting insects. Even though it was nearly Fall, the weather was still humid and the marsh made your lungs feel like they were trying to breath underwater.

In was nearing sunset now, and all of the bugs and frogs had just begun to sing their evening songs.

He stared out into the marshlands and tried to calm down. His emotions were always on high. They had been ever since he learning of her capture. No, that wasn't true. Ever since he had turned his back on her, and left her alone in that little house. Thinking her safe. But only, inevitably, causing her more pain.

Everyone and everything had failed him. Every plan he had hoped would succeed. The Opposition was perhaps his biggest failure. He had put too much faith in their efforts. He had wasted too much precious time. But where had it led him? Nowhere. Right back to where it all started.

He had nowhere to turn now. And yet, he could not think of her gone from his life forever. But she was. He may have to live with this on his conscious for the rest of his life. He was powerless. Utterly powerless.

He had promised himself that he would ever stop trying to help her. But now. Now that he was staring out into the gathering darkness without any hope in his heart, he wasn't so sure anymore.

Nothing felt certain.

A mosquito buzzed in his ear, and he waved his hand to try and knock it away. However, the pesky insect had already bit him. He smacked at the back of his neck, trying to kill it.

A voice from behind him mumbled in the gathering darkness, "Stupid, good fer nothing bugs." Followed by another smacking noise.

Adrien turned around at the familiar sounding voice. "Plagg?" he called, his voice shocked and high-pitched.

"What?" he man replied completely un-phased, like his absence all these months had been no big deal.

"Where the hell have you been?" Adrien questioned angrily.

Swatting and slapping another few insects before finally speaking. "Around." He replied nonchalantly.

Adrien opened his mouth to give the older man a piece of his mind. He wanted to yell at him for abandoning him like he did. Although, this certainly wasn't anything new. Adrien knew that. Still, he had questions. And he was angry and hurt. However, none of the words formed on his lips. He just stood there, mouth open, in silent shock and could not say a single thing that was on his mind.

"Close your mouth, kid. Bugs'll get in." Plagg told him.

Adrien closed his mouth, but also took a few steps forward to face the older man. Finally, a decent question came out, "Why are you here?"

Plagg shrugged. "There's a War going on, isn't there?"

Before Adrien could ask another question, Plagg kept talking. "Why are you here?"

Adrien felt his mouth drop open again. He honestly didn't know what to say to answer that question. He thought he did. But now, he was just lost and hopeless. He let Plagg's words hang in the air for a few seconds. His question too heavy and difficult to swallow.

He was here because he was failure. Because he had tried everything and nothing worked.

Without even fully realizing it, he started talking. His lips poured all those empty words. He shared what was really bothering him and held nothing back. He was tired of trying to hide his true intentions.

Plagg only listened.

"… And I don't even know where she is. I would assume the Palace, but Theo moves her constantly. Nino's position was compromised, so he can't provide inside information anymore…"

"… I look in the mirror and I hate myself more everyday. I look at the scar on my side and I wish it had killed me. And yet, if I wasn't alive now, would anyone even care to save her…?"

He kept talking until the sun had completely set and the stars were twinkling above their heads. He fought back against the emotions that wrecked his voice when he said her name out loud. He let go of his ego for the moment and shared all of the uncertainties that had been plaguing him.

When he finally stopped talking, he felt out of breath, but also, a bit clear headed.

"And what would you do if you found her?" Plagg asked.

"I'd keep her safe. I'd protect her." Adrien answered instantly.

"How?"

Adrien bit down on his own tongue. "I just would." He argued.

"And what would you do when someone takes her away again?" His voice was calm and completely monotone.

"No one would take her away from me. Not ever." The tone of his voice shifting with irritation.

"Oh yeah? Can you single-handedly fight off a crazed mob? Or how about an entire army? Think about it kid, you'd be dead in five seconds. And she'd be gone again."

"Not helping, Plagg." Adrien snapped at him.

"Just being honest."

"Okay fine. If you have all the answers, what should I do? Forget about her? Because I can't." He admitted.

"I'm not saying you should forget about her. I'm just wondering how far you'd go to rescue her."

"I'd do anything. I wouldn't care what the risk is. If she never had to suffer again, I'd give my life to make that happen."

Plagg snickered. "Your life, huh?"

"Yes."

"Do you love her?"

Adrien paused for a few seconds. His heart wanting to say something else, but his mind to troubled to admit it. And because his mind controlled his lips, he finally replied,

"I don't know. I honestly just don't. All I want. All I really want is for her to be happy again. And I know she's not."

"How do you know?"

Adrien shut his eyes and drew in a shaking breath. "Plagg, She's suffering. I can feel it. I don't know how I can. But I feel it…"

Plagg looked at Adrien. Really looked at him. He peered deep into his heart. And through all the sadness and guilt, he found the truth.

"… And I can't do anything about it." Adrien finished, letting his shoulders and head fall in defeat with his own words.

Like a candlewick suddenly lit alive with fire, something shifted in the gathering night. Awoken after a long catnap. Ready to stretch its limbs. And sink in its claws. Slipping free of its outer skin.

Adrien shivered from a sudden wave of cold. Cold? No, it was something else. A silent presence. A power gathering. The air pushed at him, coiling itself around his body. Tying itself to him in a way that he couldn't understand.

He listed his head to look at Plagg, only to see the older man's eyes glowing brightly as if they contained their own light. Flickering like a new candle. Intense and alive.

"Yes you can."

* * *

(A/N: Hello my lovelies! So sorry again for the delay with this chapter. It needed a re-write. And then another re-write. And then edits. More edits. You get the idea. But, I should have more coming soon. Thank you for reading.)


	13. Chapter 13

\- Chapter 13 -

Marinette hobbled around the Palace's center courtyard garden. The fabric of her dress swirling delicately around her skinny calves with each slow step. Her flat shoes barely making any noise as she staggered along the concrete walk. Her body so weak now that it faintly shook with every step, like thin tree in a strong wind.

Faceless Palace guards flanked her on either side while she did her laps around the garden. Never alone. No matter what she did. And her daily "exercise" was no different. Theo insisted that she be forced to walk on a daily basis in order to maintain a bit of her health. Thus, she was dragged out of her room and obligated to mindlessly circle the gardens.

She felt like a walking corpse as she trudged along. Barely acknowledging to put one foot in front of the other.

The interior Palace court garden was in partial bloom due to the time of year. It would be a few more weeks until the many plentiful bulbs would open up and reveal their colorful and pungent blossoms. The bushes and fruit trees had tiny budding green leaves sprouting off their branches. The air was still chilled, but the sun felt warm. Spring. Normally a time for rebirth and awakening.

And yet, all she wanted to do was die.

Through the gauzy veil of fabric covering her eyes and face, she could see the bees and dragonflies bounce from plant to plant, looking for a flower that had opened early. Marinette envied them. For they had wings to carry them from place to place. It was their choice to be here in this garden. Unlike herself.

Turning the corner, she caught sight of Chloe having just entered the courtyard. The woman had at least five handmaidens in tow as she flipped out a large fan and began waving it back and forth, making her tightly curled golden hair bounce.

Marinette stifled a groan as Chloe turned in her direction. Gods, why? She just wanted to walk in peace and forget about life. Was that so much to ask? Marinette could swear that the woman went out of her way to bother her. Chloe probably wished her dead long ago. It was painfully obvious that Theo adored Marinette. So much so that she occupied his bed on an almost nightly basis. While his soon-to-be-wife, was left to plan a wedding that may never happen.

As they strolled towards one another, Marinette so desperately wanted to about-face and walk the other way. But that was childish. Chloe would either scoff and ignore her completely, or make a deliberate scene. She was always attempting to turn the favoritism back to herself. It was so obvious how much she despised Marinette. And just how deep her jealously ran.

As Marinette approached, Chloe slowed down and narrowed her grey eyes towards her. Her heavy deep blue eye shadow reaching all the way up to her eyebrows today. She had a fluffy white fur draped across her shoulders and fastened with a broach of brightly polished silver.

Marinette prayed that the woman would just ignore her. But Chloe's mood was impossible to predict. Besides, this was her last required lap. She just wanted to go back to her room and forget about life.

When Chloe stopped walking, Marinette wondered what poison was about to spew from her lips. Although, she might be able to still get away from the conversation. She nodded her head slightly, in dull acknowledgement of Chloe's presence, and kept walking past her.

"You are required to address your Queen properly." Chloe lashed out before she could get any further away.

Marinette stopped walking, sucked in a deep breath and slowly turned around to face the awful woman. Her two guards stopping and diligently put themselves between the two women. Blocking Chloe from fully seeing Marinette standing behind them. A wall of flesh.

Marinette dropped into a low courtesy, head down, and spoke, "My _sincerest_ apologies, my Lady." Although, her voice did not sound the least bit sincere. But she really didn't care. She was too tired to care.

Chloe snapped her fan closed. "I did not give you permission to speak to me, peasant."

Marinette swallowed a lump of bile in the back of her throat. She did not want to deal with this today. She just wanted to do her mandatory walk and go back to her room. This was a conversation that she never needed to happen.

Chloe was obviously in a foul mood, and now had her favorite punching bag. Marinette knew not to push her. And she was too tired to care. Despite every bone in her body wanting to resist it, her trained Palace etiquette switched on. Slowly, she lowered herself to her knees, and let her skeleton-like hands fold delicately in her lap, without saying another word.

She watched as Chloe's high-heeled shoes took a few steps forward. And she could feel those grey eyes starring down at her.

"Now, that's much better. The floor suits her. Wouldn't you all agree?" Chloe spoke to her entourage. All of them giggling and agreeing with her.

"Pathetic little bitch."

"Insignificant peasant."

"So hopeless and stupid."

Marinette bit down on her own tongue so hard that she tasted blood in her mouth.

"Those eyes don't belong to you."

"You must have sold your soul to the Devil."

"Of course she did, no one would ever allow someone like her to have them."

"Soulless wretch."

If only they knew. If only they could understand how much Marinette hated them. How much she hated her own eyes. She would gladly give them up in this moment, if it meant she could be free.

Or perhaps whatever Gods existed would finally take her from this world. So she could finally be at peace.

She knelt there for several minutes and let them spit their venomous words at her. Let them feel good about themselves for ganging up on her like this. Although, she hardly felt the sting. She was too numb.

They haughtily laughed and giggled above her. Jeering each other on, and fueling Chloe's ego. All the while, her guards did nothing to stop their words. Only prevent them from fully seeing her or getting any closer. But their words stung more than any blow.

Women were supposed to protect each other. Not eat each other alive.

"I hardly think it's even fair that someone like you should even be allowed to have those eyes. You're hardly a prize at all." Chloe snickered from behind her flapping fan. "Fitting that your life means nothing now. Not that it ever did."

They continued to bully her until they got bored enough from her lack of response and, finally, walked away. Their high-heeled shoes tapping daintily on the cobblestones. Only then, did Marinette pull herself to her own feet. She let her forever silent guards escort her back to her chambers. All the while, their hurtful words swirling like a constant storm in her mind.

She would never let those women see her cry. She had learned that long ago. If they saw her cry, that gave them even more fuel. And yet, her heart was too tired to cry anymore.

Once she was securely locked back into her tower, she listed for the guard's footsteps to disappear back down the spiral steps. Now that she was truly alone again, her tears never came. Sadness had long been replaced by anger. And the anger hung around her like a little dark cloud. So she punched and screamed into her pillows until the tightness in her chest lessened.

She let herself be angry. Truly angry. There was comfort in her anger. It brought out a bit of strength that she had forgotten about. The rage boiled in her belly and burned across her skin. Lighting her alive with energy that she lashed out into her pillows.

With every punch, she felt a bit better. It was satisfying to hit something that could not hit her back. And yet, the movement of her arm felt somehow familiar.

Yes, she enjoyed this. She remembered how to do this. How to punch, how to move. She was on her feet now, jabbing at the empty air. Dancing on her feet with a fury of jabs and little kicks.

Her feet darted back and forth. Head down, shoulders relaxed. Her fists found empty air, but the momentum felt good. Their was power with ever punch and her imagination filled in a face.

However, her frail and malnourished body lacked endurance, and she soon collapsed to the floor. Completely winded and out of breath. Her heart pounding so hard, she thought for sure it would burst from her chest.

No, this is what she needed. To fight. To fight like no one expects her to fight. Fight with the spirit she once had and release it back into the world. Fight to, one day, have the strength to get away. And get away for good. Or perhaps, choke Theo in his sleep.

Fight like she had been taught to do. Remember those times. Focus on the bittersweet memories. She made a personal vow to never, ever again lose her fighting spirit. Someone very special had taught her how to fight, and she never forgot those lessons. They were forever imprinted on her heart. For now, let her anger be her fuel.

Filled with a renewed sense of purpose, she felt life return to her body. She had a plan now. For too long she had let herself be weak. This wasn't Marinette.

On that day, she walked away from her own grave, and did not look back.

And with that, she started eating again, and pulled herself from the darkness she had been living in for so long. Slowly, her body recovered back to health. She gave herself time to fully heal. She had been almost completely broken. In some ways, she still was. But she was hardened now.

After a few more months, she was back to her original weight and gained back muscle. With this healing process, brought on a new wall of defenses. She became a survivor.

Comfortable now in her own skin. Her quick wit returned – followed by a sassy inner voice that she never realized was a strength.

In this time, she perfected her blank expressions. A sultry smile, or a blank stare. Each without true emotion or feeling. Just sheer muscle memory of her face. Chloe's harsh words rolled off her skin like an invisible shield. She killed Chloe with smiles and fake-believable kindness, and it drove the woman crazy.

Whatever physical activity she was allowed to do, she did so with earnest. During precious moments of complete isolation, she staged combat fighting with her pillows and pushed her body to its breaking point.

She took it upon herself to learn the traditional royal dances in order to help present herself with all of the poise befitting a royal concubine. With time, her natural grace made her movements stunningly fluid. She took to the dancing easily and exquisitely. Although, her talents certainly did not go unnoticed by her captor.

Noticing her aptitude for dance, Theo required her to dance provocatively for hours in his chambers. Pleasuring himself while watching her hips sway and dip. Marinette hardly felt a thing when he touched her. None of it brought her pleasure.

However, a consistently happy Theo allowed for Marinette to sensually request for things not previously allowed to her. Like books, maps, ink and paper. She learned to read, write and understand the history surrounding the Endless War. She poured herself into learning as much as possible. In truth, it kept her mind sharp, and allowed the days and nights to pass by quickly, while keeping her thoughts from darkening like they had done before.

For that exchange, Marinette performed to his liking. Her obvious talents making her a newly polished pawn in Theo's political ambitions. He still rarely shared her or even thought about letting others witness her dances. However, it was very obvious that the she was something that nearly every person alive desired to own or be near. So, he used her to gain favor with the other nobility.

He would order her to dance in private rooms filled with ogling men. Wearing clothes that presented her body in ways that would make a man's throat run dry. Theo would sit upon his throne as she danced so exotically to tempt and tease these men – knowing that none of them could have her.

After seeing her, most would come before him and offer large sums of money just to have a chance to touch her or even bare witness to her dances. Theo would smile wickedly, and negotiate the pricing higher and higher.

This was how he was funding the War for his throne. And the Opposition would never be able to keep up.

* * *

Adrien let out a cry of pain as the blunt weapon collided against his ribs. The blow knocked him sideways and he landed hard on the rocky round. The impact caused him to bite down on his tongue, and he tasted blood in his mouth.

"Sloppy."

Adrien spat blood on the ground and grit his teeth as he attempted to stand up quickly. But was failing due to his growing frustration.

"Get up."

He barely made it to his knees when the blunt weapon punched him in the shoulder – knocking him backwards and onto his butt. It didn't necessarily terribly hurt, but he knew he was being toyed with. That only added to his irritation.

"Get up."

The blunt weapon hit the back of his elbow, making his whole arm suddenly numb with the impact. He knew if he kept lying here, the jabs would only continue. He muttered something inaudible under his breath.

"Again."

Slowly he made it back up to his feet. Wiping blood from his mouth, he raised his weapon. Lowering his stance, he attacked.

Weapons met and clashed against one another, and then separated once more. Another attack. Parry. Attack again. Fast dodge. Quick attack. Miss. And then a tumble. Sweeping of legs. Spin and leap. Heavy attack. Weapon's locked. Strength against strength. Knees bending under the force. A swift kick to the back of the knee and Adrien was on the ground once more.

He cried out in frustration and pain.

"Get up. Again."

"Enough!" Adrien cried out, panting and exhausted. "I can't go again."

The blunt weapon jabbed him in the chest, pushing at him forcefully.

"I said, enough!" Adrien yelled again. He anger threatening to boil over.

"The enemy won't care that you're tired."

Adrien grit his teeth. "Don't you think I know that?" He snapped.

A slight pause. "No. I don't think you do."

Those words only made him more infuriated. Adrien angrily threw his weapon aside and crawled to his feet. He didn't need to hear this. This training session was over.

"We're not done here, kid."

Adrien looked over his shoulder, "Yes, we are. I'm done."

Suddenly a dark figure moved and blocked his path. His movements had been a complete blur of shadows. He held the staff pointed at Adrien's chin, centimeters from hitting him.

Adrien stiffened his jaw and held his ground. He stared the man down with fiercely intense eyes.

The figure chuckled darkly. "Oh ho ho, so you're angry at – **me** – now?"

Adrien pushed the staff away from his face. "I'm beginning to think you've spun me nothing but lies Plagg... We are wasting valuable time. I've yet to…"

Plagg loudly clicked his tongue, interrupting Adrien. "Of course… Lies. So many lies. So little trust. Ha!"

Adrien sucked on his tongue irritated by the riddles.

"Believe me or don't. Your call, kid."

Adrien took a big step towards the other man, putting himself directly in his face.

"If you really claim to be what you say you are, then prove it to me! Tell me the spell."

"No." he answered simply.

"No? What do you mean, no?"

Plagg smirked. "You're not ready."

"How do you know I'm not ready?"

"Because we are having this conversation. And I grow bored of it."

Adrien opened his mouth to speak out, but was cut off again.

"If you don't strengthen your body, that spell will shred and destroy your muscles and organs from the inside out, and you will die the moment the words leave your lips. And if you don't control your emotions, than the beast will only leak out and consume you until you become more beast than man."

He paused to make sure he had Adrien's full attention.

"I'm telling this to you because you once told me that you'd give up anything to find her. That any risk would be worth it for you to right the wrong. Is that still the truth?"

Adrien felt his shoulders fall in defeat. Unable to find his voice, he could only nod his head.

"So, for now, we train. We train until every muscle of your body gets stretched to its limits."

"We train until the exhaustion feels like it's going to eat you alive. I'll train you until you break. And then I'll break your mind. Because that is the only way you'll survive to see her again."

Plagg shoved the staff into Adrien's chest.

"Now. Again."

* * *

 _ **Five years later…**_

* * *

Marinette's years in the fortified royal palace taught her a lot about the bloody King's War. How it originally begun was still shrouded in mystery. However, even the occupants of the palace respected its history and the great hardship that it had created upon the world. She consumed herself in memorizing the tapestries and family crests that lined the stone walls as she was walked with her constant escort throughout the Palace.

Most important, she learned the importance of the empty golden throne. Which sat alone and obscured in mystery upon the highest dais. Its plush red cushions covered in a thick layer of dust. Not one person had sat upon the throne since the King's War had begun.

Many whispers had labeled it cursed. Too many false Kings had tried to claim the title. But, in truth, that throne properly belonged to no one.

Not even Theo was bold enough to sit upon it. Which seemed odd due to his headstrong personality. His throne was a staircase below it. His back always turned to it, as if he was pretending that it wasn't there. But it always was. Seemingly mocking the persons below it. A dull symbol that, until the War ended, no true King would sit upon it.

A single coach thundered along a rough back road. Catching what seemed like every single pot hole or thick root sticking out of the ground. Every bump forced Marinette out of her seat. She braced her hands against the velvet walls that lined the interior of the coach. The heavy velvet curtains blocked her view of the outside, but the inky blackness of the night prevented her from seeing anything interesting. Besides, she'd done similar journeys like a dozen times before. Although this one was certainly new. And much further away from the Royal Palace.

The horse's hoof beats were like a steady chorus drowning out all other noise. The poor animals were getting pushed to their absolutely limit. All in the name of speed to transport her to Theo's newly "acquired" summer Palace. Meaning a noble of the Opposition had just lost their home.

Marinette had heard rumors that Theo had furnished a conjoining room for her next to his own. She hoped that wasn't true. She liked having her tower room where she could hear if someone was coming up the stairs. And she could practice her sparing in secret.

Marinette was moved quite often. And recently, Theo had become very paranoid about her safety. Mostly due to the fact that the Royal Palace had been rumored to having traitors – all in attempt to steal Theo's Jewel away from him. Or at least, that was the madness imprinted in Theo's own brain. It made Theo all the more inconsolable, and forced Marinette to sleep in his bed almost every night. The man barely slept and just paced the room, guarding the doors and windows like a lion protecting his kill.

The recent rumors and possible attempts at her kidnapping had brought about a violent streak with Theo. He trained rigorously with a growing arsenal of horrific looking weapons. And seemed to take physical pleasure in personally torturing and killing those who dare try and steal his Jewel from him. Or sometimes, random individuals that got in his way. Or cooked his eggs wrong.

He was a madman. Everyone knew it. And yet, everyone ignored it. Some people blamed her. Saying she had the Devil in her eyes. Those blue eyes that boiled the blood of Man.

As the coach continued to bump along the makeshift road, Marinette forced herself to take numerous deep and even breaths. It helped keep her calm and focused. Her mind still liked to wander and daydream. Especially when she was outside like this. The possibilities and hopes of breaking free made her heart pound adrenaline into her veins.

Although she had to keep reminding herself that there was over a dozen guards outside this coach, not to mention Theo himself was probably mixed in somewhere among the guards. She wouldn't make it very far. And now was not the time to start planning such frivolous escape attempts. Never mind the fact that it was certainly conspicuous to travel this way, even under the cloak of darkness. But it was the safest bet.

A sudden shout rang out and the horses slowed. Finally, they were there. They had been traveling for hours.

However, the increased commotion outside was unusual. Voices yelled unorganized directions, and horses neighed frantically. Suddenly, the coach lurched forward and then took a violent turn to the left. Marinette left the wheel lift off the ground and prayed the coach wouldn't flip over. She gripped the plush seat and held on.

Men on horseback ran past the coach, shouting to one another. The whole situation felt off. More hollers rang out, followed by the distinct sound of weapons being drawn. Her coach picked up speed once again, as the sounds of battle erupted all around her.

Marinette stayed where she was. If this was yet another kidnapping attempt, then it was poorly organized. Screams of injury sounded off as the horses carried her away from the sounds.

After a few more seconds, the coach made another violent turn before stopping abruptly. Voices speaking another language called to one another. Marinette could pick up a few words like 'quick' and 'go'.

Metal scraped against metal as swords collided. Horses ran around frantically. However her carriage never starting moving again.

Marinette sat deathly still with her back straight and hands folded lightly in her lap. Straining her ears to listen to the commotion happening outside. She stayed put – fearing Theo's wrath if she moved. Although her nerves were eating at her to at least move back the curtains to see who was winning.

That fighting voice in her mind was growing louder and louder with each passing second. She knew the doors of the carriage were bolted from the outside, but she could probably fit through the window should the commotion die down. At the very most, she hoped they all killed each other, that would make her job ten times easier.

Someone began hacking at the padlock on the carriage door. It took a few good hits before the wood splintered and the carriage door snapped open. Revealing a figure and face of a man she did not know. His face was grizzled with an unkempt beard and huge bushy eyebrows. Once he got a good look at her, his lips turn into a delightful sneer.

Like so many others before him, he was here to try and steal her away. Marinette stared at him with unwavering eyes and did not attempt to move. How far would this man get with her? The longest record had been 9 hours. Surely he had friends? Unless they were all dead.

She automatically began to do a countdown in her head.

5…

4…

The man reached for her arm, but she pulled away from him and shimmied over to the back of the carriage.

3…

2…

An abrupt noise sounding like the snapping of bones and the wet slicing of flesh filled the air. A bit of hot blood sprayed onto Marinette's arm. She stayed perfectly still and made no moves to wipe it away.

The head and blade of a spear protruded from the man's chest. His face was slack with shock. Death began to cloud over in his eyes.

As quickly as the spear was thrust into his body, it was sharply pulled out. The thick, sloppy wet sound of raw flesh made Marinette wince slightly.

The man collapsed in a heap on the carriage floor. She turned her head to see Theo holding the bloody spear and grinning from ear to ear.

She knew he enjoyed this. He liked the hunt. It was almost like a game. His bloodthirsty nature faintly hummed in the air, and vibrated off his body like a dark heat.

He stepped over the body and came to sit beside her on the plush seat. The side of his body was tightly pressed up against hers. She kept her eyes forward and tried to keep calm while not dropping her stiff posture.

Theo noticed a bit of blood spatter on her pale cheek. Using his sleeve, he wiped it away. Marinette scarcely breathed as he did so.

"Do not worry, my Jewel." He cooed to her. "This lot was easy to kill. I even saved a few for later."

Marinette forced herself to smile, and repeated what she always said after these situations because she knew Theo liked to hear it, and it fed his unwavering ego.

"This Jewel is still only yours, my Prince."

* * *

After spending a few weeks in the summer palace, Theo decided that he did not like how much sun his Jewel was getting, and decided to return to the royal palace after only a month. The traitorous accusations all but forgotten now. He was in particularly high spirits. And that led to a "stroke of genius" to host a lavish gala before Winter in celebration of his unprecedented successes. He wanted the preparations to begin before they arrived back at the Royal Palace and sent messengers to spread the word.

The evening before they left, Marinette was abruptly ordered to entertain a high paying group of men who had been invited to dine with the Prince. She was quickly whisked away to dress and prepare.

It had been a few months since Theo had ordered her to entertain. Truly, she thought anybody worth any money was probably already funding his War. Whoever these men were, they would probably get drunk and just watch her dance while touching themselves. She'd flash her blue eyes, and one of them would try to grab her, and then a guard would step in, and the show would be over. Same old story. She was honestly numb to it all.

She stood outside the door flanked by her guards, one of them opened the door while the other entered the room first, checked it and then gestured for her to enter.

Marinette entered the room slowly. Each step making the small, high-pitched string of bells around her ankles jingle softly. The guards shut the door behind her.

Behind the veil, her eyes scanned the room, finding it uncharacteristically empty.

How strange. Did she have the correct room? No, impossible her guards had taken her straight here. The room was decorated to receive company. Even a large fire was alive in the hearth. But where were the guests she was to entertain?

Taking a few more steps forward a sudden movement behind her made her quickly turn around. A single man stood behind her, as if he had materialized out the very stone walls.

They were alone. No guards. No Theo. Just them.

Oh Gods. What price did this man have to pay to get her alone like this?

Coming back to herself, she dropped into a deep courtesy as she had done a thousand times before. Letting her face and chest come up slowly, giving the person a good long look at her cleavage.

She strained her gaze upwards, fully looking him in the face. Only to find a black mask covering his features and tied with a simple string behind his head. Only his green eyes were visible. His blonde hair was pulled back tight against his head. It all too much reminded her of how Theo wore his own hair, slicked back and greased down.

Well, she certainly wasn't here to judge. She was here to dance, and then be done with it.

Without another word, she sashayed her way towards him. Taking each step impossibly slow so that the bare flesh of her smooth legs peaked through the high slits of the dress for long moments.

The closer she got, the more she realized how tall he was. Her face barely came to the center of his chest. He was dressed richly, but nothing too over the top. His jaw was shaved clean and formed pleasing lines.

Marinette mentally slapped herself. What was going on with her tonight? Why did this man intrigue her so much? Perhaps it was just the whole situation. Truthfully, they had nowhere to go. The room had one way in and out. Guards were waiting outside the door. He couldn't possibly try anything. Besides, he had paid a fortune for this opportunity. His loyalties to Theo probably ran deeper than blood.

With a quick movement she spun delicately around him, slipping behind his back in a teasing gesture. His head followed her movement, but he did not turn to face her. His profile was altered by the mask, but his features were certainly not ugly.

Strong-silent type, Marinette determined. Well, she would just have to see if she could break him of that. Most men broke easy.

Casually, she reached out and ran her fingernails along his back as she moved to his other side. He did not even flinch when she touched him. In fact, the muscles in his back felt hard against her hand.

She dropped her hand away, and positioned herself in front of him again. She looked back up into his face, only to find him not looking at her anymore. In fact, he pushed past her and walked towards the table and chairs set up in the room. He pulled out a chair for himself, and then pulled out another chair. Looking back over to her, he playfully patted the seat of the chair, casually smiling.

Marinette could only stand there dumbfounded. What in the hell was going on? She wasn't allowed to speak unless spoken to, and the man had made no move to talk to her.

Well, this was his hour, however he wanted to spend it was up to him.

Marinette walked forward, not caring how she moved when she walked towards him this time. A bit timid, she took the offered chair and sat down, crossing her legs delicately at the ankle. He stood behind her, and gently pushed her chair in so that she was comfortably seated at the table. The feeling of him looming behind her was a bit unnerving.

However, he did not stay there long. Instead, he walked across the room and fetched a chess set and all of its pieces.

Marinette was so glad for the veil over half of her own face, that way he could not see the utterly confused looks she was giving him. Especially when he set the chessboard up in front of her to start a new game.

He sat down in front of her. And made his first move. Not on her. On the freaking chessboard.

Marinette stared from the chessboard to his masked face, to the chessboard and back again about a dozen more times. She opened her mouth to say something. A brief syllable even left her lips, but sound surprised even herself and she quickly closed her mouth again.

Sighing heavily, she reached out and made her turn.

For the next thirty minutes, they played chess together and no noise could be heard except the crackling of the fire and an occasional sigh or hum in thought.

The masked man played pretty well. Marinette kept her face blank of emotion, but couldn't help but giggle when he lost a significant piece and let out a childish groan of annoyance. A few more moves and she actually started smiling but covered it up quickly with her hand. Another ten minutes, and the game got suddenly intense when the masked men managed to claim her last knight.

Marinette stared at the board intently, concentrating on her next move. And then, she saw it.

"Checkmate."

She watched from even behind the mask, his face dropped with absolutely shock. His eyes widened and he panicked looking over the board, unable to believe it was true.

Marinette laughed out loud at his reaction. She laughed hard for a good few wonderful seconds before she caught herself and tried to swallow it down. Oh god, how could she have laughed at him like that? Suddenly panicked, she covered her mouth and tried to regain her composure by staring down at the table.

However, a deep rumbly laugh filled her own ears and she dared a glance up in his direction. He sat across the table smiling at her and nodded his head. Silently admitting defeat.

She caught herself matching his smile with her own and the pair just stared at each other for a long moment, chuckling.

He pushed back his chair and stood up slowly, coming around to her side of the table. Her gauze covered gaze followed him as he moved. Gently and slowly, he reached for her hand, and she let him take it.

Holding her fingers, he brought the back of her hand up to his lips and kissed it softly. So softly that it genuinely shocked her. And then, he let go, turned on his heels and walked out of the room without looking back.

Marinette was left suddenly alone in the empty room. It took her a moment to compose herself about what had just happened to her. She wondered if she had perhaps imagined the whole interaction.

When her guards came in to finally fetch her, they found her still sitting at the same table, staring at her won game of chess like she had just seen a ghost.

* * *

The journey back to the royal palace was uneventful. Not that she expected anything to happen. Although Theo and the guards were certainly on high alert for the entire trip. Which gave Marinette the whole carriage to herself.

During that time, she did some serious thinking. Mostly about the mysterious masked man who she had played chess with. Beyond that, just how weird the whole situation had been in general. Who pays an obscene amount of money to see the only surviving blue-eyed person to turn around and only play chess? And not even look at her eyes? This had never happened before.

Truth be told, she had no one to talk to about this. No one to confide in. She was left trying to put the pieces together on her own; a process that was proving maddening. By the time they made it back to the Palace she pushed the whole situation to the back of her mind to hopefully get forgotten.

It happened. It was weird. Move on. She had bigger issues to deal with now. Her head couldn't be in the clouds when she was back in the same building with Chloe. She had to stay sharp.

The good thing about being back at the Royal Palace was being back in her private tower room. She spent the good part of the night sparing and practicing until she couldn't keep her eyes open anymore.

When she slept, she dreamt of a real battle being fought on a living chessboard. Except all the pieces were as tall as trees.

If Theo was anything, he was a man of spectacle. He enjoyed throwing large and glamorous parties. Choosing to invite only those rich and loyal to his crown. The glittering parties blocked out the greyness of the world outside of the palace. Shutting out the realness and opting for a fake reality. The lavish galas were a waste of money. But none of that mattered to Theo. For him, it was all about appearances and showing off his lavish lifestyle.

The gala took an absurd amount of weeks to plan. Theo had to have everything perfect. He micromanaged every single detail. And it wasn't until the day of that Marinette learned she would be allowed to attend. And Theo made sure that she was the crown jewel to his ensemble.

Sparkling chains of thin silver dripped from her neck and leashed her to Theo's arm. With every casual movement or turn of her head, the silver caught the light and glissened like wet spider's silk. Her midnight blue satin gown hung off the curves of her body in a way that made men's throats go raw and dry with lust.

A beautifully ornate, but temporary tattoo decorated her pale skin. Spiraling and flowering as it drew one's eyes up her slender neck, throat, and up into those precious eyes lined with eyeliner and shimmering glitter.

She lay against the white marble steps just as she had been instructed to do so. She lounged effortlessly graceful at Theo's feet against the high polished surface. Looking just like a precious jewel on display for the guests to behold. Like a living piece of art. Too flawless to be real.

Marinette watched people's reactions to her. Disgust, rage, envy, longing, desire. Every emotion she had seen a hundred times before. She kept her chin up and her face neutral. Something that had taken her years to practice and perfect. Most of the practice coming from having to deal with Chloe.

The vile woman was sitting on a smaller throne a few feet away and down several, steep steps. Her yellow and black gown was a stark contrast to Marinette's own. However, Chloe's was far more proper for a noble Lady to wear to a royal gala. Whereas Marinette was just there to be shown off and invoke a sense of shock and awe. Marinette never got a say in her outfits or how much skin they showed. Whereas Chloe probably had that gown specially designed just for this occasion.

Marinette still found it amusing that Chloe was technically sitting lower than her, even if she was chained at Theo's feet. Marinette could tell that it bothered Chloe a great deal to not be sitting closer to Theo – considering they were to be married. Like a lot of things, it was probably why Chloe distasted her so much. She may be the fiancé to the great False Prince, but it was Marinette who stirred his loins more than the blonde could ever do.

Shifting her thoughts away, she let herself listen to the lovely music being played by the string quartette. She so rarely got to enjoy these moments. The music was delightfully whimsical and a few ladies swayed to the music in their tufted gowns. Dancing would not begin until Theo finished eating, and she could still hear him chewing above her.

People talked and laughed constantly, sipping colored wine and champagne from long stemmed glasses. The large windows were open and the sun had almost completely dipped below the horizon, making way for a cooler night. Perfect for dancing.

Marinette sighed deeply, almost content with the setting. She wasn't happy. But, for now, she was at least content to lounge and watch the party.

Finished eating, Theo tugged on her chains and brought her to sit up higher so he could casually touch her. It wasn't unheard of for him to openly grope or fondle her in a room full of people just because he could.

Marinette silently hoped that he wouldn't right now. She so seldom got to be a part of these events; it was a treat just to watch. She still jumped when his fingers touched her. Although, he only ran his fingers through her dark hair, which had been delicately curled for the occasion. Casually twisting a curled strand through his silken gloved fingers.

He must be in a good mood, Marinette decided. Normally these events were hit or miss for his mood. Any bad parties usually ended with her being forced into his company for a long, sleepless night.

Marinette sat still and kept her head forward as he continued to play with her hair for the next few minutes.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him raise his hand high. With that gesture, the music stopped and the room turned their attention to him. He stood up, forcing Marinette up to kneel beside him.

He spoke loudly to the group. A lot of flowery words of welcome and boasting about his recent successes. It was all a very familiar song and dance. Although, his voice was bold, powerful and rang throughout the room. Making sure everyone heard it, even if they had heard it all before.

Shifting his tone, he gestured to Chloe in brief acknowledgement of her presence. He allowed a big enough pause so that she could courtesy to him and then to the group.

Clearing his throat, he turned his attention to recognize a few VIPs in the room. Mostly men, they reluctantly stepped forward as he spoke to them about fore coming alliances and swearing oaths of loyalty to him and his crown.

As he spoke, Marinette noted that a few men were nodding along contently, while others were stoic and obviously unhappy with the arrangement. If she had to guess, they were not here at the gala on their own accord. Theo was obviously showing them up with his influence.

It was starting to make more sense as to why she had been allowed to come. This was all a power play.

Theo gave a tug on her chains as he started down the marble steps. Marinette was forced to follow behind him. She kept her face to the floor, and tried not to get tripped up on the thin chains or the long train of her gown.

Surprisingly, a deep older voice spoke up, and questioned Theo. He got a few sharp words in, but with every word, her heart sunk in her chest. Theo stopped descending the stairs and she stopped just behind him, trying to hide or shrink down. The poor brave soul, this would certainly not end well. The evening had started out so well too.

Theo quickly retorted, and the words were like venom spitting from his lips. Still, the man protesting again. It was a terrifying thing to stand up to Theo. Marinette looked up briefly and caught site of the man's face. He was older, heavy set, with a lot of facial hair. But he looked kind, like a loving family man with many children. Clearly, he was brave enough to question Theo and his hubris influence. Oh, it would certainly mean his death. Marinette wished she could cry out and tell the man to stop talking. He'd never see his family again if he didn't stop talking.

Theo descended the final few steps quickly, dragging Marinette with him. When they reached the bottom, one arm snaked around her bare waist, while the other snatched her chin in his sharp fingers. He pressed her against the side of his body, and pushed her face outward. Marinette winced slightly at the roughness and the dramatic sharp angle. No matter how many times he treated her roughly, it still hurt.

"Do you not see what I possess?"

He roared as he pushed her face into the man's who spoke out against him. The man said nothing, his own brown eyes faintly shimmered in the light as he looked into Marinette's face and saw her true blue eyes. However, he looked away and averted his gaze from hers. Marinette always felt that was a sign of a good person: when they chose to look away instead of stare at her.

Her heart broke for the man. It really did. However, she had little time to feel remorse as Theo dragged her along to the next man.

He forced her face up and into each of the men's surprised faces. She tried to twist away, but he held her tight enough to bruise. One after the other, he pushed her kissably close into their personal space. A few reached out to touch her, but Theo quickly whipped her away from their grasp. They would have to pay handsomely to touch her, just like everyone else.

Not getting a proper answer, Theo answered his own question.

"Me! I alone possess these eyes. Do you doubt my authority or my law when you see what I possess?"

Theo's voice was beyond angry now. He forced Marinette's face up and crashed his lips forcefully into hers. The kiss was too rough and hurt. Marinette couldn't help but whine against his greedy mouth. His tongue was vicious and hot as it tried to consume hers. His kiss was all teeth, tongue and possession.

When he finally let her mouth go, she fell to the floor in a heap. Covering her mouth with her hands and tasting blood where his teeth had bit her lip.

"I will not be questioned!" he roared loudly. The monster was out for all to see now. A few audible gasps could be heard in the room. But most were deathly quiet.

Marinette stared at the floor, and didn't look up. She didn't want to see the monster leaking out. It terrified her enough night after night. No matter how many times he behaved this way, it still scared her to death.

She listened as heavy-footed guards came forward, and, presumably, ushered the brave man out.

* * *

By the time Marinette was shut in her tower that same night, it was late. Exceedingly late. Somewhere close to dawn. Her body ached in ways she could not fully comprehend. She felt damaged.

Every time she felt like she had begun to build up some kind of a wall against him, he managed to crack it. Stealing more of her innocence. More of her life.

She collapsed against her sea of pillows. Face tucked into the cradle of her own arm. She could not cry. No tears would fall. He had taken those from her too. Instead, she was left with an even deeper pit in her stomach. Rotting her slowly from the inside. She sobbed without tears, only aches and dry heaves of her body.

When she finally picked her head up, the first golden rays of the morning beamed through her tiny barred window. Dawn of another day in her personal Hell.

Picking herself up, she stood up slowly and let her eyes look into the window. Beneath the sunlight and tucked between the bars, a bit of red gleamed back at her. Tilting her head in question, she backed up slightly to try and get a better vantage point in order to see what it was. She never recalled anything ever being up there before.

She paced her room, trying to see what it was. Perhaps a bird? Or a disconnected banner?

She made the immediate decision to get it down. Whatever it was. Crossing the room, standing on her tip toes she reached high above her head, feeling for whatever it was.

Her fingers touched it, gripped and pulled it to her.

When her eyes finally saw what her hands held, she felt her world stand still. What she held… it was… It was nothing she ever expected to find. It both shocked and amazed her.

A single, red rose. Freshly plucked and perfect. Its blossom still wet with morning dew.

* * *

 _A/N: Hiya =D Extra long chapter this time, cause I had been skimping out on you guys, and you totally deserve the longer chapters. What do you think should happen next? I'm soooo ready to start writing the next part... let me just tell you XD_


	14. Chapter 14

\- Chapter 14 -

With the coming weeks, the weather turned unseasonably warm and dry. Most days contained cloudless, empty skies. No chance of rain could be predicted, even though it was being begged for.

The effect of the lack of rain soon reached even to the Palace. The lush gardens were now dull and thirsty as the plants shriveled up in the hot sun.

The ladies of court could be found gathered in the arched Palace breezeways, fanned themselves as their heavy makeup dripped off their moist skin.

Palace guards were fainting while on patrol in the boiling heat – the sweat pouring from their bodies and soaking through their uniforms.

It was the type of weather that made everyone sluggish and downright irritable.

Theo was bombarded with complaints about the looming drought. He sat listening to every moan and groan from farmers about their precious crops and livestock. Or lowly peasants with crusty, dry lips groveling for charity. It bored him to hear such dribble that had no effect on him or his treasures. He only half listened to their pleas for relief as he sat on his throne, drinking cup after cup of water and eating slices of an orange. Its not like he could control the weather. But he did control the nearest fresh water sources, and his newly built dams ensured that his cup would never run dry.

Marinette silently wished for him to choke to death as he sucked on his orange slice. She sat at his feet, getting sprayed every-so-often by a particularly juicy bite. His sticky fingers traced her exposed bare shoulder in dull circles.

Completely ignoring the group speaking to him, Theo's fingers moved up the side of Marinette's neck, loving the way her creamy skin and slender throat felt to his touch. He loved wrapping his fingers around that delicate neck just enough to make her gasp for air, and forcing those blue eyes widen for him.

"Let's have a bath, my Jewel." He huskily spoke to her.

Marinette turned her face to him. She fluttered her eyelashes and softened her voice. "So soon, my Prince? Our last bath was only but a few hours ago."

In her mind, she was screaming at him. _'A bath? These people are dying of thirst, and he wants to waste more water on a stupid bath?!'_ His tub was the size of a small pond. It seemed more for indoor swimming, not bathing. A completely unnecessary luxury. But that was Theo.

Theo pouted. Pouted like a child being told no. He sat back on his cushioned chair, arms crossed, scrunched down, and stared out at the small crowd gathered before him. Marinette knew that his pouting would only lead to anger. People died when he was angry. So, she did her best to quickly persuade him to think of other things to quell that anger.

Running her fingernails seductively along his leg, she quickly drew his attention back down to her.

Rising up onto her knees, she leaned closer to him. Draping the top of her body across the arm of the chair. "Wait just a… little bit… longer. Tonight, once the sun goes down. The air will cool and the water will be sooo…. much… more… enjoyable before bed." She cooed in his ear.

A devilish smile crept across his lips. Chuckling to himself as he spoke low into the side of her face. "I've trained you well, my Jewel."

 _'You haven't trained shit.'_

"I aim to please only you, my Prince." She cooed back.

He sat up in his seat and patted her arm. Turning his attention back to the crowd of people, he began barking some frivolous response to their questions and the room erupted with this boastful talking.

Marinette took her spot up once again at the foot of his throne. Staying small and out of the way while her prideful master gave his speeches. She smiled internally to herself at her ability to manipulate the mighty Theo with just some choice words and the batting of her eyelashes. Such was the case with every man. They were all the same to her now. Let them believe that she was some stupid whore of a woman. For she was too hardened to this world and this life to care.

* * *

One night, Marinette had an unexpected visitor.

She could hear the high-heeled shoes echo as they ascended the deep stone steps up to her lofty tower. So Marinette, had enough time to prepare herself for incoming guests before the door was unlocked without a knock

Marinette had just been shut up in her tower not long ago. She had been doing some nightly exercises by candlelight before getting to bed.

However, once the door opened and her guest entered, Marinette was certain her night was about to get a lot longer.

The abysmal woman was dressed in her very finest. Complete with a fluffy real fur draped elegantly around her shoulders. Her wide tufted skirts swished on the floor as she entered the little room. Although, she neck and ears lacked gems or pears. Items she certainly owned, for Marinette had seen them thousands of times. The lack of them made her extravagant dress seem all the more out of place. She ignored Marinette completely, as her sharp eyes darted around the room before inviting herself in.

A single stoic Palace guard stood silently in the doorway as Chloe walked around Marinette's tower room, seeing it for the first time and wanting to get a good look at where Theo was keeping his most precious Jewel. She removed the silk gloves from her hands, bending down to run her fingers over the velvet encased feather stuffed pillows that made up Marinette's bed.

Her fingers brushed the velvet pillow fabric back and forth, making the fibers swish softly. This continued for a few more lazy seconds until she stood back up, and continued to stroll around the small space.

"Leave us." She called over to the guard as she picked up Marinette's polished silver hairbrush and ran her fingers over its smooth surface.

When the candlelight hit her face, Marinette winced at the amount of makeup plastered across her skin. The heavy shadows and eyeliner caught the light in all the wrong ways, making her face look contorted. Blusher and foundation was caked in every line in a very clown-like effect. It was certainly dramatic. But the sheer amount of it was unflattering.

The guard hadn't moved or obeyed her command, and Chloe noticed. Setting the brush down, she called to him again. This time her voice was more sing-song and carefree.

"Now there really isn't any need to make such a fuss. The Jewel and I are simply going to have a little late night girl talk. Just shop talk really. Hair, nails, clothes. You know…"

The guard seemed un-phased by Chloe's words.

"… It's delightfully boring, I assure you." She kept convincingly speaking. Although her voice was losing its pleasantries and shifting into gathering irritation.

The Palace guard just stood there silent and unmoving.

Chloe muttered, "No wonder all your tongues have been cut out." Her nasty words spitting with their usual venom. "Idiots like you have nothing good to say anyways…"

Marinette finally found her voice and interjected quickly. "Good Evening, my lady. What do I owe this pleasure?"

Chloe glared at Marinette now, but did not smile. "Oh, no particular reason, really. Just wanted to catch up with Theo's favorite little Jewel. Have a little chat… and the like… I suppose. You and I don't really get to talk all that much… and…" She couldn't keep the tint of sarcasm from her voice.

"We don't talk at all..." Marinette spoke sharply "… my lady." She added bitterly.

Chloe's eyes narrowed. "Indeed." Her teeth were tightly gritted together with every syllable.

Abruptly, Chloe turned around sharply and spoke to the guard in an exasperated huff.

"Oh _honestly_ , could you _please,_ for the love of God, give me some breathing room here? Haven't I been embarrassed enough?"

The ever silent guard's eyes shifted back and forth. His posture wavered like he was unsure about what to do against Chloe's words.

"Mute, incompetent, imbecile…" she cursed, her vile nature coming through. "What do you think is going to happen here? Pray tell? Hmm? It's not like I can do anything to the precious, little Jewel. So just go make like a mindless idiot that you are, and wait outside the door."

Marinette wasn't sure if the guard would actually leave. She really wasn't. But somehow, Chloe's nagging had an effect.

With a curt nod of his head, he exited the room and closed the wooden door behind him.

Chloe turned back to Marinette and went to say something, but paused again. The room was silent for a few long seconds. And then, throwing her head upwards, Chloe let out a deep, irritated sigh.

"No, _seriously_ , could you _breathe_ any louder out there? I can't even hear myself think. All your hot air is unbearable. Do you have any self control? Or are you just stupid?"

Marinette listened as the guards armored steps began descending the staircase and moving a distance away from the door. She shouldn't be impressed, but she was. And yet, was that really something to be impressed with?

She was suddenly alone with Chloe. The air was unbelievably tense now. And Marinette kind of wished the guard had stayed.

Chloe moved past Marinette and went to sit down in the seat Marinette was just occupying. She stared in annoyance that the chair wasn't pulled out for her, but let it go with an audible huff. She pulled out the stool and folded herself and all her skirts onto the small seat.

Marinette could only stand there at stare at her. She honestly didn't know what to say or do. Why was Chloe even here? She never visited her. Never. Let alone on purpose or up in her tower.

"Don't just stand there. Sit or something." Chloe's sharp words broke the silence.

Marinette didn't want to sit, so she just moved herself a distance away and leaned against the wall. All the while, Chloe watched her move. Her sharp eyes glaring daggers at Marinette.

"I prefer to stand, thank you." Marinette told her gently.

Chloe opened her mouth to say something, but shut it and waved her hand in the air in a dismissive manner. "Fine. Do whatever you want. I don't care."

The pair stayed quiet for a few minutes. Chloe was muttering to herself. Mostly inaudible, but sometimes Marinette caught a few words like 'stupid' or 'pointless' repeated over and over again. Along was a flurry of sighs, huffs and scoffs. Sometimes even a few sniffles like the beginning of tears, followed by curses.

The silence continued and Marinette was growing irritated. She was tired. It was late. And she was sick of whatever mind games Chloe was trying to play on her. Although Chloe's mind games tended to happen when she was comfortably surrounded by her gaggle of ladies and handmaidens.

Alone as she was now. How much of a threat could she be?

Chloe tapped her nails on the wooden table. Her steely gaze stared hardened at the oil lamp on the table. Looking into the lamplight as her face was blank and completely unreadable.

"Lady Chloe, what are…?" Marinette started to say.

"Don't speak." Chloe interrupted her. "I have a point to all of this. And I'm going to say it. I just… God, I can't believe I'm doing this… Uh! This is utterly ridiculous. And in front of _you_ , of all people. You. You…"

Marinette pushed herself off the wall and took an angry step toward the woman. She'd had enough of this. She did not have to pretend to like this woman. Not while they were alone like this.

As if she sensed Marinette's movement and gathering irritation, Chloe let out a haughty breath and finally spoke true words.

"It seems that my Daddy's money has run out." She spoke while continuing to stare into the lively flicking flame as it greedily drank up the oil in the lamp. Her voice was becoming unhinged.

Marinette stopped moving and fell silent. It was the way Chloe was speaking. Her voice was cracking, and she was doing everything she could to keep it together. It was a sad emission of weakness. But with a sudden humility that could not be ignored.

Chloe cleared her throat before speaking again. "Theo has broken off our engagement."

She sniffed and quickly touched her fingertip to the edge of her eye, to catch any wayward tears inked with makeup. She hugged the poufy fur wrap around her shoulders, rubbing the real fur like it was her only reminder of the wealth she was now forced to leave behind.

"I am expected to be removed from the Prince's Palace by the morning."

She would be cast aside, like so many others before her. Her role in Theo's world was over. He would never give her another thought or care.

Her chin dropped to her chest as she petted the beautiful white fur with her one ungloved hand. Her voice was weak and defeated as her lips kept speaking.

"He did not even come to tell me himself, he sent some worthless servant to relay the news. Like I'm not even worthy of his time. Like I'm some nobody… Some outcast…"

She seemed to be talking to herself now. Or at least, talking to the fire. But with every word and pause, her tears had dried up. And in their place was boiling anger. Coiled and ready lash out.

For the briefest of moments, Marinette's heart softened and felt pity for the cruel woman. To be suddenly cast aside and fall out of the Prince's favor was not a simple matter. Her once very lavish life would never be the same again. Marinette knew it. Chloe knew it.

"Chloe I—" Marinette started to genuinely sympathize.

Chloe threw herself across the room and in to Marinette's face. Marinette took a step backwards, but Chloe's bare nails dug into her shoulders and through the fabric of her dress. Marinette gulped down a small yelp of surprise.

"This is all your fault." She hissed. "You did this to me."

And in that moment, Marinette instantly went back to hating her.

"How have I done anything to you?" she hissed back bravely, standing her ground.

Chloe dug her nails deeper, and Marinette felt them bite into her skin, but she did not flinch.

Chloe's grey eyes narrowed as her temper began to boil over. "You! You and your Devil's eyes. You robbed me of my glory. You stole the life promised to me…"

Chloe's fury lashed out with her words as she slashed her fingers through the sleeves of Marinette's dress.

"You don't deserve this life!" she sneered.

Marinette tried to push her off, but the woman lashed out again, grabbing at anything she could and ripping it in a blind rage.

"This is my life! Mine! Not yours!" her voice wailing.

Marinette managed to catch her wrist and held it fast, while she ducked and tried to keep her head turned away as Chloe now lashed out for her face.

The two women wrestled with each other now, spinning in small circles.

"This is mine!" Chloe screamed.

Marinette shoved her backwards, knocking her into the stone wall. The collision seemed to knock the wind out of her for a moment and she hunched over her wide skirts.

Marinette could hear footsteps coming up the stone steps to the tower. They had only moments before Palace guards would certainly skewer the woman where she stood.

"Stop this!" Marinette warned her. "They will kill you if you hurt me."

She wished she could have said something better. Something that sounded less conceited. That had not been her intention. But in the wild moment, those were the only words of warning she could think of to say.

Because when Chloe stood back up, she had a hidden blade in her hand and charged forward aiming to stab Marinette where she stood.

Her anger made her movements sloppy, but it also made her erratic and ambitious. Marinette barely caught her arm in time, but the blade still bit into her neck as Chloe collided with her. The momentum crashed them both to the floor.

The both tumbled and rolled. Marinette tried to force the blade away and keep it from digging deeper into her collarbone. She kicked at Chloe, but her legs were tangled in the massive skirts.

They rolled again, and Marinette's head and shoulders collided hard with the small wooden table briefly making her see stars. Actually, it wasn't stars, but flames.

The glass lantern fell from the table and shattered on the stone floor between the two of them, spraying oil and flames onto them both.

There was no more fighting to be had; the blade was forgotten as the hot oil ignited every thing it now touched.

Marinette stomped and smacked at herself trying to douse the little flames that had managed to hit her. The fire burned little patches of her skin, singeing and crackling as it hit hair. She tore at the already tattered dress, ripping off pieces that had caught fire. However the sudden screams around her made her turn and gasp in shock. She had not been hit with the worst of it.

Marinette watched in horror as the greedy hot flames leapt at the chance to spread, and the other woman was trapped in a dress that was consumed in fire. In a panic, Chloe bolted to her feet frantically trying to get away from the fire, not knowing that it had already devoured her. Her panicked screams echoed in the tower. The flames ate up the fabric, being fed further by the deep dyes and lavish embroideries. Little flame wisps latched themselves onto the rug and numerous pillows in the room. The room was suddenly alive with heat and fire.

The door slammed open and guards rushed in, stopping instantly in the doorway.

There was the briefest of moments that everything just stopped and everyone just stared at the horrible site before them. Surrounded by the panic of the situation. Trying to weight out the options. Listening to the screams. Choking on the smoke. Watching the fire grow.

She wasn't sure how it happened. Or what possessed her to suddenly think this way. But Marinette knew this was it. The opportunity would never present itself again. Her adrenaline ripped through her muscles.

She was on her feet and across the room, fists loose and coiled. She popped the nearest guard in the nose with the heel of her hand, her knee colliding with his groin not even a second later. He dropped instantly and without a sound.

Pushing off the wall, she spun and was suddenly behind the other guard. He barely had time to turn before her foot crunched behind his kneecap and he buckled forward.

She was out the door, and down the steps without looking back. Her feet just moved on their own, taking two steps, three steps, sometimes four steps at a time. She wound herself down the stairs until she heard another guard ascending towards her.

She stopped, heart pumping, completely forgetting how to breathe, she forced her body to stand still and wait. Agonizing seconds passed, as she listened for those heavy footsteps to grow louder and louder as they charged the stone steps to her tower. Armor clacking and echoing in the narrow stairwell. Closer. The jingling chainmail ringing in her ears. And still she waited.

She waited until he came around the corner, until she saw the whites of his shocked eyes underneath his helmet. She braced herself, pushing her arms out against the narrow stone walls, and gave herself the forward momentum she needed for her foot to strike him under the chin, his teeth to cut clean through his own tongue, and his world to go black.

She swung herself over the guard and continued her rapid descent. The stairs wound down in a blur of movement and shadows.

There would be more of them. So many more. Unless she could reach the bottom of these stairs before they came.

When the stairs finally ended, she let out a little cry of surprise as her knees bucked slightly, suddenly being forced to run. She ran to the next doorway and ducked behind the solid door. Covering her panting mouth with her own hand, she peered through the crack between the doorframe and the door.

Even in the low light, she could make out the rush of bodies as they came towards her. She pressed herself tightly against the wall, holding her breath as the door slammed into her, and the guards rushed past to begin climbing the tower.

If they believed her to be dead in that fire, she may yet escape the Palace. But, for now, she had to keep moving. More guards would be woken and soon Theo would be altered. She had to use this time wisely. The panic of the fire would pull everyone's attention. The manhunt would not begin until it could be determined that she was indeed missing. She needed to be smart.

Once enough people were awake, the torches would be lit, she would loose the safety of the shadows. She would have to distance herself from the panic. Make for the gardens. And then, hopefully, the Palace walls and, finally, the gate.

She wished for a weapon. Or, better yet, at least a cloak. Something to hide her face and head. Her eyes and nose stung from smoke and tears. She could not keep her tears at bay. She was absolutely and completely terrified. That's all the tears were for: her fear.

Another few guards rushed past the door, screaming fire. Swallowing on a dry throat she moved with them, running just behind so they could not discern her footsteps from their own. She moved only a short distance before pressing herself into another shadowed corner. Checking her surroundings, and then moving again.

She did this until she was able to reach the small courtyard garden. Once there, she flung herself amongst the bushes and dry dirt. Scrambling to be hidden beneath the dark plants. She dug fingers deep into the dry dirt, wishing for mud. But the lack of rain stole that dream with a small cry from her lips. Still, she scraped the dirt on her arms, neck and face. Anything to help darken her complexion and make her less easy to see.

Peering beneath the plants, she could hear the shouts and calls growing by the second. Guards carried bright torches that cast long shadows onto the stone walls. More people rushed past, but none of them looked to the dark garden. They gathered in the passageway leading to her tower. No longer running towards it.

Something had shifted. Either the fire was out of control. Or it was known that she wasn't amongst those who had burned.

She could not stay here. She knew this. It had only served for a few precious moments to catch her breath and try to clear her panicky thoughts. She crawled on her belly through the small garden, aiming for one of the outer passageways that would take her to the walls, and then to the gate.

She pulled herself to a crouch and then to her feet. Keeping low, she climbed to stand behind a column. With a deep breath and a frantic heart, she darted across the path and down the hall.

Marinette ran with all her might. Her quick feet darted between columns and expertly navigated the hallways.

When she heard guards coming, she threw herself into an archway and tucked herself into a dark corner. Holding her breath as they stomped by.

In the distance, she could hear the Palace erupt with noise and commotion. She tried to get as far away from it as possible. Every loyal soul in the Palace would be looking for her. Theo himself would shatter every stone until she was found.

The main gates would be too heavily occupied to attempt to get through now. She might have luck with the servant's quarters, but that was the only part of the Palace that she knew nothing about. Every door would be a mystery.

She ran down another few feet of wall and tucked herself behind a column. The shadows were her greatest savor. She moved between them quickly and tried not to let any amount of moonlight hit her body.

She could hear the continuous shouting all around her. And then, the sound she dreaded. The huge metal gates being smashing closed. There was no way out now. Her only plan had been to make it to those gates before they realized she was missing. Now… now what could she possibly do? Climb her way out of this hell hole? Not unless she could climb a thirty foot wall and then survive a fifty foot fall on the other side.

She dug her nails into the rough stone. Scared. Panicked. Hopeless. No way out. This was all for nothing. He would find her. It was only a matter of time. There was no way out of this place. She shouldn't be scared. Theo would never kill her. Her eyes meant too much to him. But, in this moment, she could not imagine facing that monster again. She couldn't go back to that man. She never wanted to see that wrath.

Perhaps a fifty foot fall didn't sound so bad after all? It would certainly be a quick death.

Shaking her head back and forth sprayed her tears as she tried to clear those thoughts away.

No. Fight. Fight to survive. She did not want to die.

Glancing around, she looked for options. Another path to take. Another possibility. If she continued this way, she would hit a dead end. And the shouts were getting louder all around her.

Wall. Go for the exterior wall. Even if she didn't make it. She had to try.

Leaving her shadowy spot, she ducked behind a row of armaments. Pressing herself against the wall, she walked slowly, avoiding any light where she stepped.

Glancing upward, she noted the movement of the clouds in the sky. A bright moon would certainly help her see while she climbed. She would be climbing blind without it. However, she waited patiently for a large cloud to move, and block out the light. The wall before her was cast in blessed darkness.

Grasping at the wall, she dug her foot into the sharp stone and pulled herself up. Her fingertips hurt, and her nails were broken and bleeding, but still she climbed upwards.

Once she was a few feet off the ground, the realization of the monstrous task at hand made her swallow down a lump of bile in her throat. There was no going back now.

The constant adrenaline kept her muscles from betraying her just yet. A strong foothold gave her a moment of peace so her fingers could find another spot to grip. A few scary moments left her hanging on a narrow stone by her fingertips while her legs were scrambling below. The stones were jagged against her chest as she pressed herself into the wall.

But she pushed upward, not daring to look down to see how far she would fall. The wind picked at her hair and clothes, but it blew away the occasional sob and groan that managed to escape her lips.

If anyone saw her like this, she would be an easy target. The clouds had parted, and the moon was bright once again. Glancing up, she was so close to the top. Only a few feet to go. And it was always the last few feet that were the most difficult.

She tried to shut her mind off. Focus only on the climb and ignore the aching feeling beginning to build in her limbs. It was all becoming too much. The fear of giving up was making her weepy again.

Shaking her head back and forth she tried to remember the horrors she was escaping from. But, in turn, that only made her fear grow. Fear that she would never escape from. Her grip was faltering on the stones as her body was suddenly ranked with a cold sweat. The wind threatening to rip her from the wall.

In that terror of a moment, she remembered a time of climbing trees as a little girl. Hanging upside-down from the low branches by her legs. The memory calmed her and brought her back. This wall was just another tree. Simple. Easy.

Her hand touched a flat ledge of the crenel and she knew she'd made it up. Gripping the ledge, she flung her legs up and scrambled up onto her belly and slid along to land in the parapet. Guards would be patrolling this area constantly. She had to keep moving. But her body was failing her. Exhaustion was pulling at her muscles and the constant fear made her light headed and nauseous.

She knelt down, huddled behind one of the merlons, trembling.

She wasn't hidden. There was nowhere to hide up here. She was totally exposed.

Get up. She kept telling herself. Get up. Keep going.

Fear ripped through her body. The weight of the situation kept her rooted to her knees. Alone. So alone in her horror. Even in her escape, she was alone.

The wind whipped her hair in all directions and reverberated in her ears. She screamed into that roaring wind. And yet, she could still hear the shouts of the Palace guards. She could hear Theo's voice calling for her.

An iron grip latched onto her shoulder starting pulling her up off her knees.

No! They won't take her back. Not after how far she had come. At least, not without leaving a few broken bones, teeth bites and bloody scratch marks to show for it.

Her mind fed whatever leftover adrenaline to her muscles. She twisted away and fell onto her side, kicking upward and hit someone, because she was rewarded with a muffled grunt.

Quickly scrambling and trying to get her feet under her to get away, she bound forward, only to be crushed back down as the weight of a person fell on top of her.

Wiggling her trapped arms, she attempted to squeeze out from under, but the person trapped her arms easily and pinned them to her sides. Quickly realizing that she was being overpowered, her eyes started crying again. She squirmed and bucked, but she couldn't lift them off.

Through the tears and her mangled hair, she looked through and found a face. Or rather, she found a pair of alien eyes. Glowing so vividly green as if they contained their own light.

The rest of his face was concealed behind a skintight dark mask that hid all but his lips and mouth. And dripping from those lips, were a delicate but sharp pair of elongated canines.

 _'Inhuman.'_ She thought instantly. _'Beast.'_

That haunting gaze and face turned away, as shouts called out from beyond them. He hesitated, but as the voices got closer, he slowly moved off of her.

Suddenly free, Marinette rolled to her stomach and looked out towards where the yells came from.

The beast man stood a few yards in front of her. He was staring down about half a dozen Palace guards. All with swords and spears drawn and at the ready. She watched as he walked towards them, his black clothing casting a faint silhouette in the night around them, and with no visible weapon in sight.

The two groups stood in a brief silent stand off with only the sound of the wind roaring all around them.

"We're taking her." One of the guards called out loudly into the wind. "Stand down. Or you will be killed."

Marinette shuffled to her feet and stood up slowly. Not sure who was her enemy anymore. She moved to the edge of the exterior wall and cast a look over the edge. It was pitch black on the other side, with no visible sign of the ground below.

Reaching behind his back, just above a long twitching black tail, the beast man drew a short baton that tripled in size as soon as it was at his side. Against the moonlight, the staff faintly glittered like polished silver.

The beast man lowered his stance, ready to pounce on the Palace guards before they had the chance to attack. Six on one, with more arriving very soon. Not terrible odds, as far as he was concerned. But certainly not great.

Oh well, time to be a hero.

Marinette let herself blink, and in that short amount of time, she felt an arm wrap around her waist and, without warning, drag her over the edge of the wall to fall into the darkness below.

Marinette cried out only because she was now unexpectedly falling through the air. The air whipped around her. She couldn't see. But it would all be over soon.

A sudden grip on her forearm pulled her out of the air and caught her. She screamed in surprise. With nothing to grab onto but air, her body could only dangle below her. She still couldn't see much around her, but the realization that she wasn't falling anymore was robbing her of collecting her thoughts properly. Panting, she was still trying to put all the pieces together. Her wide eyes traveled up her own arm to meet the face and glowing green eyes of the masked beast man once again.

From the light of the moon, she could see that he was hanging precariously by his other hand, which had a vice grip on his metal staff. The staff was wedged, conveniently, into the side of the stone wall.

A low rumble emitted from the beast man's chest. Almost like a mix of a purr and a laugh.

"I really didn't think that would actually work." He chuckled, smiling so widely that it accentuated his pearly fangs.

For the briefest of moments, Marinette could only stare at him. Her mouth open in silent shock and her brow furrowed in question. What in the hell was going on?

An arrow, alit of fire, sailed past her cheek imbedding itself into the ground below. She let her eyes drop to see that the ground was perhaps another fifteen feet below her own. A safe distance to fall.

Another arrow whisked past their dangling bodies.

Marinette tore her gaze back up to meet his. She tried to pull as much seriousness into her voice as she could.

"Let go."

Somehow, that wide toothy smile widened by her words. "M'kay, but just this once." And then he visibly winked at her.

Marinette felt her brow furrow again as he released her and she landed solidly on her feet, taking the caution to roll onto her shoulder to help break the fall.

She had only a moment to collect herself onto her own feet before he landed next to her. Although, he didn't need to roll away. In fact, his feet barely made a noise as he landed on the hard ground.

He had his metal staff in his hand and, with a quick flick of his wrist, the weapon returned to its smaller size, and he tucked it behind the small of his back.

He turned towards her and Marinette felt herself take a step backwards. Of course, he closed that gap almost immediately.

The gathering voices around them suddenly fell silent to her ears as he stood before her. Close enough to feel the body heat emitting from his chest in little imaginary coils. He was easily a head and shoulders taller than her. His physical features a complex mix of feline and human. More beast than man. Something definitely not of this world.

Her eyes narrowed. Confused, curious, but also anxious.

"As much as your gaze amuses me…" He purred. "… We must be going."

Marinette felt her heart sink. No. No. This could not be. He was actually here to take her? She was trading a monster for a beast? One nightmare for another?

And yet, why did she expect anything to be different? This was her fate.

She took another step backwards, pivoting her weight. Her body was so tired. She could not fight him and hope to win. She wasn't sure if she could even run anymore. With one last push of strength, she turned and started to flee. However, she barely got a few steps before his hand caught and tightened around her wrist.

She couldn't find any words. But her face must have said it all. Because be spoke darkly now, revealing his intentions.

"Why, my Lady, if I can't steal you away from the heart of enemy. Then I have no right to take you at all."

Her eyes darted quickly to his other hand, which held some kind of capsule within his clawed fingers. He broke it and a harsh smell drifted into her face. Her senses dulled almost immediately and her vision started to darken.

"No…" she cried softly. And her world went black.

* * *

Author's Note: Happy 2020 my lovelies! A lot has happened to me since my last chapter... I do so much apologize for the delay! I really do think about this story often. I want to work on it. As I have so many different plot points rolling around in my head, tormenting me to get written. Anywho, thank you for your patience. On a side note: I have another spattering of ideas for a new fic. I've been itching to write a Luka/Adrien rivalry. And I want to get out of my "medieval times" mindset and write in a modern-day setting. So... yeah. Be on the lookout for that maybe soon? Thank you all for your continued support and love. I adore all the comments. They are truly my inspiration. 3


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